Simply Stranger
by Phantom Kisser
Summary: Joker and Harleen Quinzel meet at Arkham after DK. There's something about this patient she just can't shake. He doesn't belong there. Sex in the last chapter.
1. Introduce a Little Anarchy

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Also, I've decided to make Harley more my own, so she may not be exactly what you remember from before.

Dr. Quinzel pursed her lips and stared through the glass, unsure of what to make of the man in the room. He wasn't like her other patients who screamed and kicked and slobbered all day. No, this one kept to himself. He sat quietly in his chair, hands folded, staring at the one-way mirror. This unsettled her; he always appeared to be watching her.

"I'm clocking off, Harley. You wanna grab a coffee or dinner?"

David Young appeared in her doorway.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I have another patient left. I haven't met him yet, he's the new one from Gotham."

"The Joker?" his tone was one of fear.

She raised her eyes to the man in the next room.

"He's just like all the others. He can be treated."

For a moment it felt as though her eyes connected with his through the glass. Her breath caught; he couldn't see her, could he? The man behind the glass gave her a conspiratorial wink then broke out in loud gales of mad laughter.

Dr. Young frowned at the mirror and took a step into the office, closing the door.

"He's not gonna miss you, Harley. What's one more day to a freak like him?" he asked, jerking his head towards the convulsing form in the other room.

"David. He is not a freak, " she disliked that word, it tasted foul on her lips, "He is my patient and it's my job to see him. I want to help him."

"Did you hear what this guy did? Some people you can't help. You'll understand when you meet him if you don't already; he's a whack-job beyond repair."

"Don't use that word with me."

Her tone was ice; immediately Dr. Young's eyes dropped apologetically, "I'm sorry. Harley, I-I didn't mean... You know I wouldn't..."

"I know. Goodnight, Doctor."

Harley gathered her clipboard and made for the door. David stopped her in front of it.

"Harley, I know you don't like me and I can see why, but please, listen to me. This man is nothing but trouble. Didn't you see the way he was watching you through that glass. Nobody is supposed to do that. Nobody. I've heard stories 'bout this one; do me a favor and wait until tomorrow."

"That's ridiculous, he couldn't see me," Harley hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt, "I came here to help people, not to run away when they need help. Go home, I can deal with him."

She pushed past him and briskly walked to the next room.

"Suit yourself, but I'm warning you. That man is dangerous."

"Goodnight, Dr. Young."

She disappeared into the white-padded room.

"Who was that?"

The voice startled her; Harley turned to find herself face to face with her new patient. She took care not to let her gaze linger on the scars around his mouth. She had spent a few minutes already examining them from her office. Collecting herself, Harley gave him the answer he wanted.

"That was Dr. Young. He works across the hall. Maybe you can meet him sometime."

"Yip-pee," he drawled, turning to the other side of the room. Harley took this as an invitation and sat down at the desk, laying out her papers and folders. The man made no sign of movement, so she cleared her throat and began.

"I read your file before I came here."

There was no response from him. If she had expected this to be easy, she knew then that she was wrong.

"You've done some terrible things. A lot of people got hurt, but you're sick. Maybe I can help you. Can you tell me what's wrong?" she prompted.

He turned slowly, allowing his scarred face to take full light.

"Isn't that what you're supposed to tell me? Harley?" He sat down across from her, hunched over the table.

"You know my name?" this too unsettled her.

"Of course. Does that make you nervous?" he grinned, widening that perpetual smile.

Ignoring his last comment she continued; this seemed to please him. He chuckled softly.

"Why is it that I don't know yours then?" this man clearly liked to play games so she might as well get on with it. Besides, there was something about him that intrigued her. She would be spending many days in this cell.

He laughed again, the same chilling sound.

"You know my name, _**Harley-quin**_. It's been all over the papers," he said playing games with her name.

"Joker."

Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

He nodded slowly, baring yellow teeth in his grin.

"That's not your real name and you know it. Tell me your real name."

"What's the file say?" he leaned forward to get a better look, brushing her hand in the process. Dr. Quinzel snatched the file away, heart pounding.

"That's classified!" she snapped. This man sure knew how to tweak a person's nerves. It'd scarcely been two minutes and she was nearly jumping out of her chair.

The man called Joker was staring at her, intently evaluating what he saw. His dark eyes were unreadable, but his raised hands signified open defeat and his grin was still there, held up by those hideous scars. Suddenly she wanted to ask about them, to touch them, to know how they came to be.

"Well, Doctor, aren't you gonna look?"

"W-what?"

He pointed to the papers.

"The file?"

Harley swallowed and opened the case with shaking hands, knowing what she would find. No other name but Joker.

"Very well, Mr. um... J. My name is Dr. Quinzel, I'll be available whenever you need me," he mimicked her silently, the way a disobedient child does to his mother. Harley forced herself to push onward, " And on the behalf of all of Arkham, I would like to wish you a speedy and thorough recovery. Now, if you'll excuse me..." she trailed off, gathering her things. He watched her through amused eyes. She stood to leave, offered her hand, thought better of it, and walked towards the door.

"You want to know how I got these scars?" his voice was quiet, deadly. She turned.

"I was in a place like this before. This one's nicer though; the doctors are prettier." he circled her, slowly, licking his lips.

"But I had this one doctor who was in charge of my "treatment". She said that I was depressed, that I needed to "smile more"... so one day she comes in. She's got this big... shiny knife... and she says to me, 'Mr. Dadley killed himself with this today...' the man was in the room next to mine. She says to me that they found him with a smile on his face... she says, 'Wouldn't it be great to die with a smile on your face?'"

He paused, taking a step forward and running his tongue over his lips. A shiver ran down her spine. He was getting closer; she could feel his breath on her cheek as she stood transfixed.

"So she comes at me... like this," he grabbed the nape of her neck, pulling her close, "and she holds this knife real tight to the inside of my mouth... and she says... she says to me, 'I told you I'd make you smile again.' And she takes the knife, real slow, and carves up both sides of my face." He demonstrated with his hand.

"Then she says to me, 'Why so serious?' and she slits her own throat, laughing all the while."

Harley was painfully aware of how audible her gasp was as she stumbled back from his grip. The clipboard hit the floor with a clatter. Then there was silence. It was several moments before she could think of anything to say.

"May I look at them?" her voice shook as she tried to steady herself.

His brows rose momentarily, then he stepped forward again. A little too close, shrugging,

"You're the doctor."

The flesh had healed badly, crooked scars running almost from ear to ear.

For a moment, her guard dropped and The Joker was just another patient that she saw everyday. Another that she nursed and bandaged and called by her favourite pet name. The one her mother had given her.

"Poor thing. Poor puddin'."


	2. The Thing About Chaos is, it's Fair

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Hey, thanks for the reviews. Glad somebody likes it, and hopefully a few more people will stumble across it. (crosses fingers) Sorry, this one is so short. The next one should be longer.

The night was cold, but that was alright. Cold never bothered him. What bothered him was this cage, the one he spent all day in like a rat in a maze. Trapped with no way out.

At least he hadn't seen one before, but now things could change. Now he had Harley. If only he could convince her that he wasn't the real monster in this town... if she would listen and somehow be swayed... maybe she would see that he didn't belong here... dammit!

He was starting to sound like one of those schemers with their little plans. Better to lead her and everything else into chaos, and then leave it to fall into place. He'd be pleased with the outcome; he always was.

And, besides, she had such a pretty mind to unravel. So full of ignorance and self-importance. Soon she wouldn't lift a finger without his permission, he'd have her grovelling at his feet. It was happening already. They'd just met and already he could feel her slipping under his influence. She was sucked under by her ridiculous belief that no one is beyond help. That belief fuels her; it makes her good at what she does, but like every be**_lie_**f, it's centered around a lie.

No one could help him, and soon no one would be able to help her. She would be his... his little harlequin.

The loveliness of it all made him giddy. She was perfect for destruction, just susceptible enough to take him in with arms wide open, but stubborn enough to stay until the end. Once she committed, she wouldn't leave him. Harleen Quinzel would become his Harley Quinn; he could see it.

Peals of laughter rose like waves crashing down the halls of the asylum. The guard, who had been dozing in his chair, woke with a start. He followed the sound to its source, flashlight in hand, and peered in at the nut locked away inside.

The flashlight illuminated his face oddly. Lank hair hung down, hiding his dark, hollow eyes. Only the scars on his mouth were visible as he laughed madly.

"Can it, clown."

Obedient for once, the Joker looked up at the man,

"Why so serious? I hear laughing's good for you."

Harley was up late that night. Paperwork lay strewn across her bed. A long-term patient of hers was going to be released the next morning and she had some last-minute files to fill out. Strangely enough, there was a small feeling of emptiness lodged in her heart. Harley had grown rather fond of the old woman, and she would be sad to see her go.

David had said that this was her problem; she let people get too close. She should never grow attached to a patient; it would only bring pain when they relapsed or were released. Still, she couldn't help it. These people all had stories, each of them tragic, and she knew their pain all too well.

It had been her own mother that had started her career in psychology, or rather, it had been her mother's disease. Every doctor had given up on her, one by one, and she had slipped away. After her mother's death, Harley had vowed never to give up on anyone. Not even the Joker could be beyond saving. Her mother sure as hell hadn't been.

But maybe David was right. He _had_ been a doctor for longer than her; his warning deserved some form of recognition. Maybe this man was dangerous. It may be best for her to keep her distance until she knew what exactly was wrong with Mr. J.

She'd rather be safe than sorry.


	3. Plans Turned on Themselves

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Hope you like; this one's rushed.

Harley felt as though she had faced the final good-bye stoically. She had put up a professional front for the whole thing, and only now that she was back in her office did she let the tears leak out.

Mrs. Roberts had been a patient of hers for nearly four years, and they had developed a close bond. She'd come in a raving lunatic, screaming abuse at the government that had stolen her only son. The boy mentioned, Nigel, had died in combat overseas, and to get back at the army for her loss, Mrs. Roberts had decided to run into MCU and shoot up as many people as she could, which landed her at Arkham. Lucky for her, when it came to her finger on the trigger, she found that she couldn't do it. No one had been harmed, but everyone was shaken. And now she was gone. Harley suppressed a little moan as her door opened to reveal Dr. Young.

"Knock knock."

She didn't want him to see her like this. Couldn't he just go away? Evidently not, because he stepped inside and closed the door.

"Come on; coffee time. You're coming with me."

"No, David, I can't," but she was smiling feebly as he grabbed her coat and tugged her to her feet. They were out the door before sense returned to her,

"My patients... David, I can't just leave..."

"Shhh... Don't you worry your pretty little head about that. I've got interns looking after them. Besides, it's just coffee. How long could that take? You'll be back before they miss you."

"Okay," but she hesitated as she passed the Joker's room, "I just don't feel right, leaving them here. Locked up and alone."

He grabbed her hand and led her on,

"Well, we can't exactly bring them with us."

They shared a laugh over this; it felt great. She hadn't laughed in a long time.

Their "coffee" turned into an all-day affair. They started with her favourite coffee shop, Rorke's, then headed for a walk in the park. Her mind felt lighter; she wasn't burdened with the daily stress she dealt with. The fresh air made her feel alive, and she was grinning like an idiot.

"It's good to see you out of office," David said, breaking the silence between them, "You smile more... you look beautiful when you smile."

He stepped in front of her, pulling her close. A strong feeling of uneasiness and a tinge of guilt settled into her. The Joker's story flashed into her mind, his scent so close to her (it was so different from David's), and his breath on her cheek. She pushed past David.

"Harley? Are you alright?"

His voice dripped with anxious concern, "You don't look so good, didn't you sleep last night?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine," she lied, "Come on!"

She laced her fingers through his, shaking her misgivings off, and ran forward, pulling him along. Gotham was beautiful in fall. Well, the park was. Gotham may be a shit-hole, but the park was beautiful. Gold, red, and orange leaves clung to trees and floated to rest in heaps on the ground. The river glistened in the light, and the skyline held the imposing figures of Wayne Tower and other major corporations.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she breathed.

"Yeah, you are."

He was looking at her again; she caught his eye and laughed, her stomach flipping. He grinned at her, a genuine smile, not one designed to intimidate.

"What's so funny?"

"You."

Her eyes flashed, and her cheeks were flushed. He tucked a stray wisp of blond hair behind her ear, and before he knew what he was doing, David leaned in to kiss her.

His mouth was warm and inviting; Harley melted against him. They parted reluctantly and breathless. He was studying her intently, taking in every bit. That odd sensation of guilt was setting in again. It was as though she had betrayed a friend by doing this.

"I should go. It's nearly two."

She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him again. Then she turned and fled, leaving him bemused in the park.

"Dinner?" he called after her, but Harley just laughed and kept going.

Dr. Quinzel was still in high spirits when she reached Arkham. Good reports from her first two interns just boosted her mood. Only when she reached the final stretch of hall to her office did things change.

David's kiss was on her lips, making her head light. So, the first few screams went unheard, and when they were, at length, heard, they were ignored. A far-away voice in her brain wondered who was shouting.

"WHERE IS HARLEEN QUINZEL!? I want my Harley-quin!"

Oh God.

Her mood evaporated as she dashed down the hall to room 1304. How could she have left him already? She had known it was a bad idea, and she'd gone anyways. Cursing herself silently, Dr. Quinzel tossed her things into her office just as a disturbed-looking intern stumbled out of the cell.

"You'd better watch yourself. I gave him a tranquilizer, but he's having a terrible fit. I wouldn't go in there if I were you!"

The rest of the young doctor's warning went unheeded as the door slammed shut behind her.

The Joker was slouched in his chair, sedate now.

"Well, where have you been, doll-face?" his speech was slurred, "So much for whenever I need you; I've been yelling for over an hour now. My throat's sore... And don't send an _**intern** _if you aren't coming. I don't want to see anyone but you."

Under other circumstances, she might have been flattered. Instead, she pulled out a professional, if not completely honest, reply.

"I was out. My apologies for any inconveniences. Now, what did you need me for?"

She looked at him eagerly, hoping against all hope that he wouldn't ask any more questions. She couldn't erase the blush in her cheeks, and she knew that she must have the look of a lovestruck teenager.

He could tell she'd been outside; no doubt with that Dr. Young. Suddenly, he was angry, but the sedatives held him down, making him tired. He ignored her question, and repeated his.

"_**Where** _were you?"

She sighed, exasperated. Her good mood was gone for sure now.

"If you must know, I went to the park."

"Alone?" he eyed her suspiciously, forcing a feeling of contrition that she knew was not merited. She had done nothing wrong, yet the urge to apologize was burning her through.

"Not exactly."

The way he looked at her made her feel dirty, like a little child who had disappointed their idol. All she wanted was for him to forgive her. Impulsively, an apology flew to her lips, but she bit back her words.

"With David." There was no question, only hate, in his tone. Harley didn't say anything; she didn't have to. He knew.

"I'm-"

He cut her off.

"Save it," this would work if he could keep up the act. Her guilt already gnawed at her stomach.

They sat in silence; she shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't said anything, but he was bursting in silent laughter. She looked so upset; were those **_tears_** in her eyes?

She would have felt better if he had screamed and threatened her, but his silence was unbearable. She wouldn't let him shut her out. She wouldn't give up so soon; she couldn't.

"You know," he began hoarsely, mimicking heartbreak, "You almost had me fooled. For a moment I believed that you actually cared about me. That finally somebody gave a fuck about me. About helping me. I thought that you were different, or at least better than my last doctor was."

He had to stick to the story he told her. He strove to remember it all, "I thought that anyone would be better than her... I was wrong. At least she was upfront about cutting me. She didn't do it by whoring around with people who hate me. I heard what he said about me. How could you?"

He spat his words out, his expression livid.

"I'm sorry, puddin'. Really, I am," she was on the verge of tears. He was gonna start cracking up if she didn't leave soon. This acting thing was just too much fun.

Harley reached for his hand, which he snatched away, fixing his stare on the mirror across the room.

"Don't close me out. I care, believe me, I care."

Nothing from him. She leaned in close to his ear.

"Forgive me? Please?"

Her soft breath tickled his skin, but he kept his expression stony. Even as her lips danced over his scars to the corner of his mouth and pressed there in a quick kiss, he showed nothing but the slightest shiver. The kiss he hadn't expected.

Harley let herself out, defeated. She was back to where she started her day: crying in her office.


	4. HIT ME!

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. Glad some people enjoy this, and to make up for not posting in a while. If I have time, I'll type up two chapters tonight. If I don't then the next one is finished and will be typed ASAP.

The new day brought new beginnings and a chance for Harley to make up for how she had hurt the Joker. Too bad she didn't have a clue how to start. After climbing out of bed and feeding her "babies" (the three tabby cats who called her house home), Harley readied herself for the day and rushed out the door.

She'd been up all night trying to find the perfect way to apologize. Still, nothing came to mind. All she gained from that was another sleepless night and some nasty bags under her eyes. All she could do now was hope that he would come to terms with her.

* * *

Game time. Harley was here and early too. He loved how predictable she was. How perfectly every tile fell into place... or really, the tiles were sliding out of place and shattering on the floor. And he loved it.

Dr. Quinzel took a deep breath and then plunged into the unfamiliar world of room 1304. He was there, quiet as usual, running his tongue over scarred lips. Something tugged at her deep inside, but she buried the feeling before clearly defining it. All she could remember was a faint curiosity to know how those scars would feel under her tongue. How they would taste.

But these were not professional thoughts, and she shook them from her head immediately.

"Hullo, Harley, you wanna kiss me again?"

She couldn't tell if he was joking or not. The perpetual grin made it impossible to know, so she simply blushed a little and ignored him, scolding herself for kissing him in the first place.

He, however, would not let her off so easily,

"Cuz, I was thinking, and I've decided how you could make up to me..."

He stood up now and approached her.

"You could do with me everything you did with David. And then, I _**might**_ call it even."

He was far too close now, but Harley made herself stand still despite the crawling sensation in her stomach. _**This**_ was normal patient behavior. There had been others who felt the need for everything to be perfectly equal, maybe his obsession was fairness. To her great surprise, Harley thought she felt a little disappointed.

But then she smiled and forced her stray bangs behind,

"Of course. We went for coffee and a walk. Do you drink coffee?" she spoke in a slow, babyish voice.

She was patronizing him! After everything that had happened she still thought that _**she**_ held the power. Unbelievable.

He dove upon her, smashing her cheeks in his vice-like grip.

"You don't make the rules here, girly... You'll do what I tell you to do and you'll take me seriously... Got it?" he growled, danger glinting in his eyes.

Harley swallowed hard.

"S-sorry... what did you have in mind?" she managed around his fingers.

"That's better," he released her face and she stumbled backwards, rubbing her sore jaw. She was going to have bruises.

"Now, I want outta here, cuz... uh... it sucks."

His eyes rolled skyward with every pause as though he was deep in thought. Funny that she hadn't noticed before.

"I'm tired of this _**cage**_, and I'm tired of this professional... uh... front you put up. Don't take yourself so see-ree-us-lee. It's no fun at all."

He sounded the word out, stretching it menacingly. His serphantine tongue darted out to wet his lips every few words, and his eyes were slitted with anger. Despite years of training, Harley felt a prick of fear. She couldn't let him out, not even to walk down the hall.

His eyes burned intensely as she searched for the proper words,

"I'm afraid that, we can't... I can't let you... leave this room. Ever... but we can have coffee here."

Her suggestion was feeble and she could tell.

"Wrong answer."

A strong hand swung past and struck her across the face, sending her reeling to the floor. Pain exploded in her head and lights danced before her eyes, but she didn't scream or cry out.

His grinning face loomed above her as he giggled from excitement, he gripped a knife in his hand,

"You see, Harley... I want out and you want to help me, right?"

He reached down and nodded her head 'yes' for her.

"Yes, and so... you are going to take me out of this cell... and into that hall. Okay?"

Harley stammered a reply.

"Good girl."

The knife disappeared so quick that she doubted that it had ever been there at all. All traces of anger had vanished as well, he looked as happy as though their fight had never happened, the only proof left was the pain in her cheeks and head.

"Come on, Harl," he helped her to her feet gently, and waited patiently as she opened the door with shaking hands.


	5. Freak Like Me

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Sorry, ran outta time last night. Here's another chapter.

"I'll be good, I promise. When it's time, I'll go back... You can trust me, I'm a man of my word."

Those were his last serious words to her, and then they were outside.

Idle chatter droned on beside her, but Harley couldn't hear a thing. Auto-pilot had taken over, and as far as anyone was concerned, she was a zombie.

She had let the Joker out. The most notorious villain in all of Gotham, and she had let him out... because he had promised her... no, because he had forced her. She tried to believe the last bit of her thoughts, but she knew that it wasn't true. She would have let him out anyways. He would have found some way to squirm into her mind and twist the truth around until it felt like she was obliged to take him out. It was a game to him, but to her, it was one that she couldn't afford to play. Her sanity was on the line.

Harley hoped that this was all a bad dream, but the cool, fresh air on her face was a constant reminder that this situation was very, very real.

"Hell-oo?"

The woman next to him was near comatose. Mr. J snapped his fingers several times, startling her to reality. He hadn't been _**that**_ scary, had he? Was her mind really so weak that it would shatter from the slightest prodding?

"Harl, are you listening?" he adopted a pet name for her, but her eyes had already glazed again.

"Harley?"

"Wha- oh... I'm sorry, just-"

She bit her lip, trembling. Why was she apologizing? This man was the reason she was so upset, so why the hell did she care that it bothered him to have her not paying attention? Should she really feel bad just because he could threaten her life one minute and then joke and make small talk like an old friend the next?

No. The answer was no.

But the stress of the situation, the sleepless night, and her chaotic feelings seemed to compress her chest, squeezing the life out of her. He was killing her, and she knew it. Him and his damned logical insanity.

And what about David? What would he do when he found out what she'd done? Tears were welling up in her eyes, and she fought hard to suppress them. She was not going to cry in front of this lunatic.

This lunatic who seemed saner than herself.

She looked back at the stark figure of Arkham behind them, and wondered vaguely if David was there. But she also wondered why it was that she knew almost nobody outside of the asylum. She may _**pretend**_ to be free, but really, she was as caged as the man next to her. And that, if nothing else, was enough to make her cry, despite who may be around to see it.

It sounded to him as if she was choking, the way she sucked air in, shoulders shaking violently. There were no noisy sobs for now, but tears flowed freely down her face. The Joker thought back to what he had been saying. It was nothing violent or cruel, or even moderately suggestive. He was just saying what a beautiful day it was and such nonsense. Though making conversation with her was like talking to a wall. Maybe this was just a _**really**_ delayed reaction to their episode in cell 1304.

"Harley?"

She whined an acknowledgement between convulsions, "You know, this isn't exactly what I had in mind. I think you need to toughen up a bit, dollface... Still, I really didn't want to hurt you, I was just desperate to get out... uh, stretch my legs, you know."

Her watery eyes turned towards him and he fought to look earnest. It wasn't too hard, he did feel a little sorry for ruining their fun and besides she _**was**_ quite pretty... when her eyes weren't streaming and she wasn't wiping at a runny nose with her sleeve.

"R-really?"

"Sure, Harl," he tried the nickname again. It sounded foreign on his lips.

"I'm s-sorry too," she whimpered.

She looked so lost, so willing to trust, to believe in him. How could she be so naive?

He reached a hand to her face, already bruising from his earlier assault. She flinched, but didn't move away. He wiped the tears away with care, but let his hand linger on her cheek. Her skin was very soft, though he felt it stiffen underhand. He could almost see the flood of emotion overtake her as she tried and failed to fight it off.

Before she knew what she was doing, Harley found herself bawling into the chest of a very bemused Joker.

It was shocking really, the way she held fast to him, like he was the only thing that could support her. Funny how she couldn't be further from the truth.

Still, if they were going to have even a semi-enjoyable walk, she would need consoling, and he had no idea what to do about that. All he could do was hold her awkwardly to his chest as she screamed and cried and beat him with her small fists.

When she finally regained enough control of herself to realize what she was doing, Harley pulled away from him horrified to have displayed such unprofessional behavior. She attempted to look stern and collected, but she failed miserably. Her face was blotchy, glasses crooked, and her nose was still running.

"It's time to go," she sniffed, praying for him to comply.

And for once she was rewarded. He followed her obediently back towards Arkham. She needed to have some scrap of control in this situation or she'd be a lost cause... cuz a puppet with no spark was no use to him. He wanted a little fire, a little passion in his harlequin... And he _**had**_ promised.

Back to Arkham, both of them dreaded it.


	6. Look at Me

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This'n is really short. I've found that the last two are kinda hard to beat, but hopefully this will be okay. It's sorta a bridge chapter to the next one. Enjoy!

No one from her branch was in yet. This meant it was still very early. They walked to his cell in silence, her expression stony, and her mood, even worse. The Joker, however, waved enthusiastically to every camera they passed. The serious man from before was vanished. Now she was stuck with this little kid who liked to see himself on film.

SHIT! He was on _**film**_!

After locking the Joker securely in his cage, and seriously considering throwing away the key, Harley ran to the surveillance room. There the tiny monitors glared white light at her, replaying his face and hers multiple times.

What could she do? If she left the evidence, she would be fired: Career Over. Not to mention her only "healthy" relationship, the one with David, would be shot to Hell. But if she destroyed the tapes, then she would be breaking the law to assist the madman who was using her own insecurities to blackmail her into submission.

Why did her life have to be so confusing? She was just as messed up as _**any **_patient here, including that crazy plant lady... what'd she call herself? Poison Ivy?

It didn't matter... what did matter was this crazed man who destroyed her more every day. And she'd only known him for what? Not even two and a half days? Worst of all though, was the fact that she couldn't deny the attraction growing between them. She had tried to call it a professional interest, but the guilt she felt after her outing with David and the way he dictated her life told her this was way out of hand.

Time to erase their past. Harley sat before the screens, flexed her fingers, and set her hands atop the keyboard, entering security override codes.

Barrier after barrier jumped before her; these computers were designed to be tamper-proof, but her adept hands scaled the keys gracefully until at last the TVs started turning black. One by one until she was left with only the Joker.

He was waving. Then even that screen went black. Her last visual, the permanent smile on his face. Then she was left with the haunting feeling that she'd done exactly what he'd wanted her to do. What he knew she'd do from the moment they met. She'd fallen for her patient, and he knew it. Not a matter of luck, just a question of time. And she'd caved so quickly.

Now it might be too late to catch herself, but she had to try. She had to get away from him before he swallowed her whole. She'd talk to Dr. Goodman as soon as she was in. Come tomorrow, she wouldn't see that poisonous man again...

But today... today was young, she could see him again... but only to say good-bye... and _**only**_ that.

'Good-bye puddin'," and then she'd be free...


	7. Make Your Own Luck

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Remember that knife from chappie 4? Weeelll, if anyone was wondering where the hell The Joker got a knife in the middle of a secured mental institution, then you get bonus points. If not, well, I bet you're wondering now... and lucky you, I'm gonna tell...

can't decide when, though… maybe, uh… later…

"Dr. Goodman. A word, please?"

The stern, middle-aged woman Harley spoke to, looked up from her papers.

"What is it, Dr. Quinzel? I only have a moment."

"Of course, I'll try to be brief. I have a few issues concerning my patients..."

Harley didn't want to say outright that the Joker scared the living hell out of her, and that she may have fallen into his twisted little games. She didn't really **_want_** to mention him at all.

"As you may remember, I've recently taken on quite a number of patients, and... umm... well, I'm sure if I can handle such an influx. These people deserve all I can give, and I can't give enough of myself to make a significant difference in all of their lives."

Dr. Goodman eyed her suspiciously,

"So you want let off of a patient you don't like? Is that it, Dr. Quinzel, because we don't tolerate that kind of discrimination here. Unless you have more personal reasons, I can't allow you to quit on just anyone you don't like."

The piercing eyes of her boss burned into her skull, she had never been good at this kind of confrontation. Her courage was failing, and worst of all, she couldn't say what she needed to.

"I-it's not that. Just I-I have a new patient... new patient, the Joker. He n-needs more help than I can pr-pr-provide..."

Way to go, Harl. Stutter like an idiot.

"I see."

She didn't see. Harley had to explain more.

Taking a deep breath, Harley began again,

"I think he should be handed over to someone with more experience than I have. Someone like Dr. Young or Dr. Landsey, not m-me."

Dr. Goodman stood and packed her things to go,

"No."

"S-sorry?"

"You'll do better with this man than any of the others could. You stay on him, but I'm relieving you of your other patients. Until further notice, the Joker is your only priority. Do you understand?"

"But-"

The look from Dr. Goodman silenced her.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," she nodded, "Dr. Quinzel."

"Dr. Goodman."

With that, the only outside force that could have saved her, turned on prim heels and walked away in a manner that showed utmost confidence in her decision. That kind of attitude gave the doctor an air of self-importance and haughtiness that everyone who worked under her learned to fear and loathe. She would never listen. Not until it was too late.

NO! Her world was not going to cave on her like this! How could this plan go so wrong? Her reasons were logical; she was young, inexperienced, she was better off with simple patients, not complex criminal madmen!

"Harley! Wait up!"

Dr. Young jogged to catch up with her as she walked the cold hallway back to her office.

"Oh, hi, David."

She could tell from his face that her greeting had been less than enthusiastic.

"Bad day?"

"You have no idea."

His eyebrows shot up.

"If you say so... have you thought about dinner?"

Harley rolled her eyes; leave it to a guy to think about that. No, don't ask me if I'm alright or what you can do. Just keep pestering me until you get what you want.

"Sure. What time?"

She still wasn't very "with it". That was very unusual for her; it's like she was an entirely different woman from the one he went out with yesterday. David didn't know what to say though, so he kept on,

"Eight. I'll pick you up. Don't worry, I know where you live."

He took on a playful psycho tone, but his words still startled her.

"Wha-... how?"

He laughed, "Staff info sheets. You've got my address too, you know."

"Really?"

There's something else she didn't know.

"Yeah."

"Huh… well, then dinner sounds great. I've gotta go… you know, patients to treat… or, I guess I've only got the one now."

He stopped her,

"What do you mean? You've got more patients than anyone else here."

"Not anymore. Dr. Goodman took me off everyone except the Joker; isn't that funny?"

Her voice sounded strangled and her laugh came out choked. David didn't think it was funny at all. She looked so stressed.

"That's odd, I spoke with Dr. Goodman today as well; I requested permission to use a joint-effort on the Joker. I thought you'd appreciate a little help. I know how clingy some of them get."

Her head was swimming. She needed some quiet.

Why had Dr. Goodman denied both of them. Did she think this was funny? Could she not see that in two and a half days a complete stranger had torn apart her world? Or was it because the Joker had already gotten to her…

No. New thoughts… new thoughts… the ones she focused on were much too disturbing.

"David, I really have to go… See you at seven?"

"Eight."

He was hurt that she couldn't even remember that.

"Right. Sorry."

With a quick peck on the cheek, Harley was gone. Into her office: her cell.

* * *

Author's Note: I know some of you are like "Where's the Joker?" That's what I was thinking when I read this over.

"WHERE'S MY PUDDIN'?"

He's coming... soon... next time...

I've got a problem with dot, dot, dots... jeez! There I go again! BYE!


	8. Two of a Kind

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: So you guys missed him too? Good, cuz I did.

* * *

Programmers and electricians swarmed the halls, checking each and every camera. It was after noon and still, only a few of the cameras were on-line. Harley couldn't stand to leave her office. All these people were here because of her... because of what she'd done. She couldn't leave, but she didn't want to stay. She was alone, frightened, and the Joker was watching her.

No, it _**looked**_ like he was watching her, he couldn't actually see her. But he was laughing at her all the same, and he knew what had happened. He also knew he was the reason for it.

The urge to run into that cell and smack him around until that smile fell off his face was overwhelming. Without thinking, she slipped from her room into the one next door. She was numbed head to toe with the rage she felt; he thought he could just sit and laugh as she fell apart, well she was going to prove him wrong.

Of course at 5'4" and with a small build, the odds were sadly against her, but she was determined to get a few good hits in before he threw her off.

And that was exactly what she did.

The door closed behind her with a click and he turned his laughing face towards her, just in time for her fist to connect with his jaw.

The force of it surprised him initially, but she hadn't caused him any real harm yet. Her knuckles ached from the first assault, but she flew at him again and again. Swinging and clawing blindly, hoping to hit a good mark. A few did, landing on his nose or jaw, but most were blocked deftly until he held both of her wrists over her head and she was left to screaming abuse at him.

At least he wasn't laughing now. His lip was split and she felt a sense of accomplishment as he wiped the blood away with his sleeve.

"Done now, doll-face?"

He'd been holding her arms for several minutes and they were sore. She was acutely aware that she had bruised several knuckles with his face and that her glasses lay on the floor somewhere underfoot. She couldn't reply to him just yet, her breathing was heavy and she was still near boiling with rage.

He held her until the fight left her and she hung uselessly in his arms. Good, so he hadn't stomped the fire out of her. Not yet anyways.

Slumped up against him, Harley had never felt more pathetic. So what she'd landed a few decent punches, but he had still won. She couldn't even move now. Would he ever let her go?

But then again, did she really want him to? She was pressed tight against him, her arms held over her head, her breathing was hard, rage and passion shining with equal measure in her eyes.

He let her hit the floor with an unbecoming thump. She rolled over to put on her glasses. There was a crack all the way across one lens. Damn.

He cast a demeaning glance at her again and restarted his crazed laughter. She hated him right now. So arrogant, so full of... URGH! She was so angry she couldn't even think straight! But she was tired too, and she knew another attack wouldn't do her any good.

She still hadn't gotten up, and she was quivering with anger. Wisps of blond hair hung in her face and fell about her shoulders. Her cheeks were red and her eyes flashed. She was beautiful, and he couldn't deny that he wanted her even as he gloated.

"Come on, pooh... GET UP!"

He yanked her to her feet. She staggered but held her balance.

"I really hate you... thought you outta know that," she panted, struggling away from him.

"Aww... you know, you really shouldn't hurt people's feelings... Guys, uh, like me, don't take rejection too well..."

The knife was back. Flicked out like a deadly extension of his hand. Harley ran to the door, wide-eyed, but her grabbed her and threw her back into the room.

"Don't make me yell, Harley... I don't like to."

The forced calm of his voice terrified her more than anything else could. He approached her slowly, and she inched back into a corner. Her anger was replaced by utter fear.

"D-don't kill me," she whimpered, "Puddin', please don't kill me."

"Harley," his tone was reproachful, "is that really what you're concerned about?"

He laughed, and pulled her up by her elbow, holding the knife close to her throat. She shivered as every breath hit her cheek.

"I don't want to kill you... what would I do without you?"

His question made the hate rise in her again; so it was true, all he wanted in her was a toy to be played with, and then tossed aside.

Her fists clenched, and teeth locked. The look in her eye was one that could kill.

She wasn't playing his game properly so he decided to help.

"Dontcha wanna know how I got this knife?" he asked pressing it tighter to her neck. He licked his lips again... like an animal before a kill.

She was silent.

"Well?... ASK!"

"How'd you g-get the knife?" she stuttered, but not from fear. The intense burning hate in her made her shake. This time he would be the one hurting after their meeting.

Good, she had asked, the game could continue, and maybe it would work the way he wanted... she was so angry though; she needed to lighten up.

"It was a present."

"A present?" it was her turn to laugh. It came out scornfully, "Really, from who?"

Her anger blinded her to the answer. She would have known if she paid any attention... but instead, she stood, every nerve tightened, face to face with a crazed maniac that she hated and loved equally.

He was the only one who ate her up. Slowly and painfully devouring her sanity, but he was also the only one who could understand her caged feeling... her need to break free and let all inhibitions go. They were two of a kind... probably the _**only**_ two of their kind.

"I'm the Joker, doll-face, you'd be surprised at how many people would like to cut me into little pieces. Especially when they feel threatened."

He teased the knife into a scrape along her throat.

The pain cleared her head, bringing her back to sense. And with that sense came logic, and with logic, the answer to her question. David.

"No," she breathed.

His lips danced into a wide grin.

"Oh yes! Your little friend here is quite the madman. They say I'm crazy, but this guy... this guy's a real nut job."

His laugh was a bark.

"You're lying."

Tears sprang up in her eyes and she hated them. She hated herself for always crying. So weak.

"Am I?"

He eased the knife away from her throat, "You'll never know now... your, uh, vendetta in the surveillance room sorta destroyed the evidence."

Harley pushed past him and flew to the door. But she couldn't open it. Where was her card?

"Forgetting something, Doll?"

The plastic card flipped around and around in his fingers.

"Give it to me."

"Look, I've got you wrapped around my finger."

His laughs were hysterical.

"Now."

She had to get out of here.

"Not until we're even... you've gotta honor your end of the deal..."

Time to raise the stakes and have some real fun. She looked so beautiful when she was angry. He licked his lips like a ravenous wolf.

"W-what else? We w-went for a walk, and we h-had coffee... what else is there?"

The fearful stutter was back. He stepped up close to her again, pinning her against the door.

"I said to do _**everything**_... you still owe me a kiss," he purred, slicking his mangy hair back. Against her will, Harley felt drawn to him. She fought those feelings with whatever hate and fear she could manage.

"You slimy bastard, this isn't funny!" she screamed at him, lunging at the card he held just out of grasp.

"You don't like my joke?" he play-acted hurt, "Well, Harl, I guess you're always taking hits from people who just don't get the joke... maybe someday it'll, uh, _**click**_."

With that he dove upon her lips, forcing his tongue into her mouth. She tried to scream or fight him off, but he was too strong for her, and nobody was there to hear her.

His kiss was rough, but not unpleasant. She found herself slipping away and answering back to his bites with equal passion. She could hardly breathe, but her hands wound through his hair, across his face, along those scars. The coppery taste of blood from his split lip mixed into their kiss, and the odd sensation of his scars sliding over her lips filled her brain.

He stepped back and held out the card, smirking,

"Here's your card, Honey, you've earned it."

Blushing fervently and fingering her swollen lips, Harley snatched the ID from him.

Momentary sanity broke through and she remembered the knife.

"Knife too."

"That wasn't part of our arrangement... you'll have to search me for it."

He grinned.

"Shall I spread 'em for you, Quinn?"

She didn't say another word, just turned and stalked out, still delirious from the assault on her lips. Forced as it was, she couldn't say she hadn't enjoyed it.

That man... there was something about him that she couldn't ignore. Something that connected them, far more powerful than the laws of Gotham... far more powerful than the Batman, whoever he was...

She fingered her card as she thought, turning it around in her hand.

There was something red smeared on her picture. Marker? Harley tried to wipe it off, but the smear wouldn't budge.Had he coloured on her ID card? When the devil did he have time to do that? And why just scribble across her face? Harley looked closer through her cracked lens.

Black circles round the eyes and a red smile scrawled along her lips.

Five minutes ago she would have been terrified, now she just grinned to herself. Two of a kind, indeed.


	9. Ahead of the Curve

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Another update ready to be read! Love my reviews! Another _**really**_ short one. Next update soon!

* * *

She couldn't sleep. Her room was far too cold, the sheets were threadbare, her "babies" were no where to be found, her neighbor's lights were glaring, and her mouth was dry. It felt as though there was a filthy sock shoved down her throat, and Harley wondered if she would ever get a good night's sleep again. After that kiss, she wasn't so sure... it was bad enough to have an affair with a patient, but to start one with the Joker was suicide. She had read enough papers to know that. Still...

2:31.

She licked her lips and groped through the eerie light of her neighbor's to find her water glass. She could feel the cracks in her lips with her tongue as it ran over them. The Joker had bitten fairly deeply into her bottom lip, and her entire mouth was sorely bruised from the kiss.

The water was painful to swallow. Her throat ached and the liquid felt like knives.

2:32.

Sleep... please, sleep...

But as hard as she tried, Harley couldn't find a comfortable position to lay in. Her bed just didn't feel right, and her skin felt like it was crawling. She had this giddy feeling in her stomach like she'd just drunk too much coffee and suddenly her mouth felt dirty. She could still feel his mouth on hers even as she rolled and squirmed around trying to escape it.

Finally, flinging herself from the bed, Harley made her way to the bathroom and rinsed her mouth several times, scrubbed her teeth, then repeated. It didn't help. The memory, taste, and feeling of him was still with her. She couldn't wash him off...

But she could try.

She undressed quickly and climbed into the shower, turning the water on hot and letting it pour down onto her. The little droplets clung to her body and slid slowly from her hair. She let it hang down into her eyes, relaxing every muscle and clearing her mind.

To help her, Harley decided to try a ten-count. This was a treatment she had tried to impose on each of her patients from time to time. Maybe it'd give her a little relief from her mind.

'One, two, three...' she began slowly, picking up speed and confidence.

'No thoughts of anything... four, five, six... let go of everything...'

She was starting to slip away from herself into the sleep she so desperately needed. Still, she was faintly aware of the water gushing over her body, but that seemed miles away. All that mattered was her ten-count.

'Seven, eight, nine... surrender to yourself... ten... you are free...

And Harley was out like a light.

Such a pity that dreams can't be controlled; now she had to face him in her subconscious. The one place where each of her fantasies, no matter how she would deny them to herself, could become real. In dreams, the water wouldn't be the only thing sliding warm hands over her body and the pleasure of sleep wouldn't be her only joy in that night.

Harley couldn't face these dreams with the truth yet. She would try to say that she thought they were disgusting, revolting even. But soon she would find that even the most hideous distortions of the morally right can be enrapturing. And terribly addicting; she would never escape.


	10. Not a Monster

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Ready for another? Sorry the last one was so short, but didn't know what else to do, and besides, that third day had to end sometime, right?

* * *

Her neck was stiff; it cracked when she moved it. The water was freezing now and still rushing down in torrents. She shivered and tried to get up but slipped and fell back to the bottom. Everything ached from being cramped up into the small bath, but at least she had slept.

Now it was time to get ready. Bones popping as she moved, Harley towelled off and got dressed. A half hour later she was slightly ahead of schedule and ready to go.

Her first stop was Rorke's for her daily espresso and one for him, then to the office. Despite the hour, several doctors prowled the halls with interns tripping over themselves to catch each word uttered.

Harley let out a rueful laugh at this. A little less than two years ago, she had been one of them. Her patience and faith in the practice had made her tremendously successful. Now that was all slipping away.

No one was watching as she walked the long hallway to his room. Her heels clicked on the cool tile as she moved.

He could hear her coming. Click. Click. Click. She was the only one who was always early and the only one who wore heels in this wing. He expected her to pass his cell, stare at him for a while through the mirror, get upset, and start to cry. That seemed to be her solution for everything: cry and hope they take pity on you. Too bad tears didn't bother him.

However, today was a day for the unexpected. The door opened quietly, and Harley slipped inside.

"Morning. Brought you some coffee."

She slid it across the table to him as she sat down.

"You certainly look chipper," he drawled sarcastically, waving his espresso through the air to gesture at her. Make-up was done, hair curled and down, contacts in; she was gorgeous.

"Amazing what a good night's sleep'll do for you, huh."

Her tone was clipped and she seemed suddenly detached; angry almost.

"Aww, doll... are you mad cuz I didn't call?"

He laughed as she glared at him.

"I'm not angry with you. I just want to see a little progress. You are my patient, and my boss expects me to make some sort of effort with you... why don't you tell me about your life?"

She produced a clipboard from seemingly no where. His easy mood was gone.

"Why don't you tell me about yours?"

His words were harsh and snappish; accusing even. She stumbled over what to say.

"Because well... I, I don't see what that has to do with... it's none of your business."

"Exactly! None of your business!"

He clapped his hands and grinned triumphantly; looking to her eagerly.

Deep breath,

"Fine... how about we make this a game. I ask you a question, you answer it and then it's your turn. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just give me something to work with."

"Now we're talking," he purred. She'd learned how to play games. Good girl.

Harley took this as a 'yes' and began,

"Where were you born?"

"Michigan. Near the lake."

She scratched his lie onto the paper, then waited for him to ask her a question.

"If I gave you a gun, right here, right now, what would you, uh, do with it? Blow my pretty face to the back wall... hand it to your boss... or,"

He licked his lips slowly and eyed her in a way that made her feel very uncomfortable,

"Or, hide it like a dirty little secret?"

"I-" she turned away, "Please, be serious. Do you have any serious questions?"

"That is a serious question, dolly. Let's me know what kind a person you really are under all this professionalism, make-up, and false covers. And so far you haven't disappointed... you covered up for me yesterday."

"I did that to save myself and my career. Don't think you had anything to do with it."

He simply sat back and smirked.

"Answer the question, girly."

"Right now? Right now, I'd blow your face onto that wall without a second's hesitation," she tried to sound heartless and even laughed a little.

He didn't believe her bluff for even a second.

"You don't have the guts. I bet you're blood-queasy... never seen someone get cut up before, have ya, Harl?"

She sat rigid and shook her head no.

"What about domestic abuse? Ever see that? The husband who just doesn't think his wife's good enough... gives her a shot to the face, 3 year old son watching. Or what about the father who beats his kid senseless for no other reason than he came too close during "game time"?"

His voice was gaining hysteria; Harley wondered if this had all happened to him.

"Or what about the mother who up and leaves in the middle of the night after he beats her up real good... kid crying in the next room, she doesn't even say good-bye... Then the dad beats on him more than ever... tells him everything is his fault. You ever seen that, Harl? No? I didn't think so..."

Harley's face was twisted with pity. She had eaten up every word of his story, and now she felt guilty as she recorded it dutifully.

"I'm so sorry... I didn't know..."

She reached across the table and held his hand tightly in her own.

"You know," he slowed from his fake hysterics into a solemn, mock-heartbreak tone,

"There was only one time I ever saw my dad happy... only one time he smiled... and that was when the circus came to town. My dad might've been a hard man, but I'd never been as cheerful as when I saw the clowns with him. Of course I still had the bruises on my face, cuts on my legs, and, oh, and the, uh, burns on my arms, but at least he was happy then. I'd finally found what made him happy.

And that's when I left behind what I was and became who I am."

Her mind was made up; wrong or no, she was going to do the unethical. Harley pulled him up by his collar,

"Come. We're going for a walk," her voice was strangled like she was trying to hold something in.

He was too bewildered to say a thing. Women. Feed them a load of bullshit about some underlying pain and they get hotter than July.

Harley dug frantically through her files until she found the location of his personal items. Then they set off to collect them.

"Put this on... it's yours, I think."

She eyed the purple suit with distaste. Something would _**have**_ to be done about that.

A few minutes, and an annoyingly tacky suit, later the pair was back outside.

"Promise I won't regret this."

She searched his face hopefully.

"You've got my word."

"Good. Let's get somewhere alone then, puddin."


	11. Mad Love

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Be good little viewers: Read and Review!

* * *

By the time they reached the park, Harley's nerves were beginning to crack. He could see it in her eyes as she nervously looked back towards the asylum. But the fresh feeling of the outdoors was great after his long stay in that stale, airless room. Why couldn't she just let go for a second and really enjoy life?

"Hey, Quinn? You alright?"

The horrible purple suit popped into her line of sight.

"Yeah, fine..." she knew she didn't sound convincing, and he would never buy it,

"I'm worried," she admitted, "I'm worried someone's watching us, I'm worried we'll get caught, I'm worried I'd never see you again, I'm worried that I'm going insane, and I'm still a little bit worried that you'll kill me."

She breathed deeply as if relieved to get that out in the open.

He gave a dry laugh, looking around. The park was deserted, not even a bird sang.

"Well, I don't think we'll be seen by anyone here... And, uh, the trees aren't talkin'."

"You don't understand... I can't help it. I just worry," she turned away and picked up her pace.

He caught up, pulling her to a stop.

"Okay... No one's watching us. No one saw us leave. You see me every single day. So what if you go insane? At least you'd have more fun. I'm crazy and I love it! And, finally, I've already told you; you are way too much fun to kill... So what, really, do you have to worry about?"

He sounded so convincing, but she couldn't quite believe him. Part of her wanted to, but a small part of her was screaming that this was all part of the game he was playing with her.

He was close, very close, and she couldn't think straight. She tried to recall all the fears that had been flying through her head, but they were gone. Still, she strove to grasp them.

"I-I... You... this, I mean-"

The Joker rolled his eyes. Women. Always worrying about nothing. Just shut up and live!

He silenced her with a kiss. It wasn't as rough as before, but equally passionate. And it caught her entirely by surprise, so she surrendered to it before she had adequately assessed the situation.

The tiny portion of her brain that was still sensible told her that he was right when he had said that no one was in the park. Things could easily go too far with no one to save her. The Caped Crusader probably had better things to do than save the girl who was falling for his nemesis... But the rest of her brain just said 'Screw it' and kissed back.

They had moved as one up against a tree; she could feel the rough bark pressed against her back as their lips danced together. Her mind was swimming, bright lights bursting before her closed eyes. She opened them slowly, hoping that this wasn't a dream. He was real, he was there, and he cared about her.

Harley was in love. A strange, twisted variation of love, but it was love all the same.

"Hey! You folks better get a room! This is a public park!"

An old man in jogger's gear came upon the pair. They broke apart reluctantly. Harley knew that the fear of discovery should be burning in her, but instead the urge to laugh overwhelmed her. She giggled uncontrollably, and pulled him, by that hideous tie, in for another kiss, leaving the old man muttering about "young people these days."

Yes. She was young, and, for the first time, she was alive.

Nothing in the world could break her mood as they lay together in the fallen leaves, snuggled close against the fall winds, watching the clouds pass overhead. Nothing but the knowledge that this would have to end soon. This bliss would be over as soon as they set foot into Arkham. There, they were nothing but prisoners.

She pulled herself up to his face and began to cover it with little tender kisses. His forhead, eyes, nose, cheekbones, scarred lips, they all passed under her soft kisses, but he just stared ahead into the sky.

"Puddin'?"

"What are you thinking?"

Her voice barely broke the silence, she didn't want to ruin this moment. He sat up abruptly and turned to face her.

"How long, Harley? How long until I'm a free man again."

She bit her lip and withdrew a little bit.

"You know the answer to that."

"Tell me again... Will I ever be free again? How long do you suppose we can keep this up? We can't do this forever. Someone will notice... Your boyfriend, uh, David, that's his name. He'll be the first to know, then the others will see it... nothing good can last forever."

He had to be careful. Play exactly the right cards. Otherwise she would realize his intentions and his escape would be spoiled. This way, she would get him out of Arkham and believe it was all her idea.

She looked like a little kid who was told that they couldn't have the toy they wanted.

"Then we'll make it last."

"How?"

"I don't know, but we'll find a way. There's bound to be some way we can be together..."

But even as she said that she knew it wasn't true. He completed her thought.

"Not here. Not at Arkham."

He rolled toward her and held himself over her chest, straddling her legs.

"But don't worry about it, dolly. We have now... Isn't that worth somethin'?"

"Yeah... I guess so,"

But he had got her thinking. They couldn't live this way forever. Something had to give.

"I said: Don't worry. Shut up, and enjoy life. A mouth like that one should always be smiling."

She grinned up at him, and melted into another kiss. He was right; when they were together she had nothing to worry about. He was all she needed.

Just Harley Quinn and her Puddin'.


	12. I See the Funny Side

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: And here we... GO!

* * *

The mechanical tune of her phone ringing broke into their perfect world. Breathless, Harley backed away from their kiss to answer it. Looking at the caller, she shot a quick apology to the Joker.

"Sorry, this is probably important. It's David."

He gave a sort of gesture which she took to mean to go ahead. Their lips met once more before she took the call, even more breathless than before.

"Hello?" she panted.

Her voice sounded strange, as though she'd been exercising.

"Where the _**hell**_ are you! And is _he_ with you?"

He sounded panicked.

She wondered for a moment what exactly she'd done, and her face fell. The Joker spotted it immediately and the look of a predator was back. Dark eyes glinted out at her; he looked dangerous. Daring her to betray him.

"Course, I'm with him, silly."

Her voice was not her own.

She let out a laugh that sounded crazy to _**her **_ears, "I thought the fresh air would do him good. We're just out on Arkham's lawn though. Still inside the gates..."

This earned her a wink and a grin from him. She mouthed, 'Let's go,' and pulled him by the hand towards their prison.

"Is this supposed to be funny? Do you have any idea what we thought happened to you? He was gone. And you too..."

His voice cracked with emotion,

"Can't you see what I thought... that he'd taken you... because of me."

Another crazed laugh, "There, there... can't be all that bad with one less nut in the house... maybe _**two**_ actually!"

He sniffed and paused for a moment, she was acting so strangely. What had that monster done to her? He wanted to comfort her, tell her that he loved her and that he could help her get away, but when his voice started again, it was serious. All emotion was gone. Out of the question, and very out of reach.

"Get back here now. And promise me that you will never, _**ever**_ leave with him again," he said letting the smallest portion of his feelings out. Too many things would be left unsaid.

"Sure thing, babe. See ya soon!"

She moved to hang up, but his last phrase reached her.

"And, Harley, are you okay? You sound different... do you need help?"

The last portion of that was barely a whisper. Scarcely audible to her, and certainly not to the Joker.

She paused, finger held over the 'End' button. Then she held it close to her mouth,

"Never better."

Click. Call over, time to run.


	13. All the Little Emotions

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Okay, and if you want to kill me for making the last chapter so short, go ahead. I want you to do it, I want you to do it. Come on, hit me. Hit me!

* * *

She'd acted perfectly. A flawless performance in her eyes, but a massacre in his. There was no way that Dr. Young was gonna believe that she was the same woman as before if she went on laughing like a psycho at every word he spoke.

The both of them would be checked into psychiatric ward.

"See, puddin', we can get away with it... he didn't even suspect."

She giggled and came close for another kiss. What she got instead was a blow to the cheek.

Reeling, she stumbled back.

"Wake up, Harley... you need a reality check here..." he spat the words at her, tongue flicking out dangerously.

"No... he didn't _**suspect**_ that something was different, he _**knew**_ you'd gone stark-raving nuts! What was that stupid laugh you kept doing? And your voice! God knows that annoying squeak of a thing wasn't what you usually use... you can't blame _**everything**_ on the cell phone connection!"

He calmed himself with effort as her eyes filled with tears. This was not the right approach,

"You see... you have to make him believe, that you love him... just like before..."

They had reached the doors to Arkham.

"But, Puddin', I love you... not David," she made a face as she spoke his name.

Annoyed with her stupidity, the Joker stopped, wet his lips, and turned slowly. He stepped up close to her for effect and cupped her cheek with a gloved hand.

He inhaled deeply, and felt her melt against him like he knew she would.

"I know... what you feel... he doesn't. We wanna keep it that way. Got it, Doll-face?"

She nodded, comprehension dawning. He gave her a little pat on her reddening cheek. She was really thick for a psychiatrist... Still, this could be too much of an overload for her to handle. He should give her a day or two to get over the initial shock of it all.

"That's my Harley... now lock me up and go see your friend... make me proud."

The last word came out like a dangerous purr. In that moment reality snapped back to Harley, and she realized what would happen to her if she let him down...

It was nothing good.

"Sure thing, Mistah J."

Summoning all the dignity she could muster, Harley unlocked the doors, deposited him in his proper cell, and sought out David. He was in his office alone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair dishevelled.

Already her intoxication from the past hours was wearing off. She could think clearly, and she knew enough to flirt if she didn't want him to go blabbing.

Sending him a dazzling smile, she walked in and closed the door behind her.

"Miss me?"

Her tone was low, seductive. David rose to meet her, pushing papers aside.

He let out breath as though he'd been holding it for a long time.

"You have no idea."

In that moment she knew that she could have done anything in the world and the sufficient apology would have been a sweet little kiss. People were so easy to manipulate.

And so, she pulled on the strings a tiny bit, forcing herself to close the gap between them and to bring her lips close to his. Every inch of the way, she fought down the feeling of betrayal. This is what the boss wanted her to do, and that was all that mattered.

The scent of her so close was tantalizing, he couldn't bear it. No matter how angry he had been with her before, now all he could think of was how much he wanted to feel her against him. And she wasn't helping with her hands up on his shoulders and her beautiful lips so close.

There was a deep cut on her bottom lip, he wanted to know where it came from, but more importantly, he wanted to give her another like it.

He dove upon her mouth. Questions would come later, right now he needed her.

Harley fought the initial urge to recoil and slap him for the way he forced his tongue into her mouth, but slowly her disgust melted away into something like pleasure. A few days ago she would have fancied herself in love, but now she saw this man for what he was. Just a man.

Her Puddin' was a god... an angel, and nothing would ever compare.

She pulled back, smiling sweetly,

"Sorry I scared you. I won't let it happen again. But I've got to go... see you at eight!"

She made for the door.

"Harley!"

She cast a glance over her shoulder,

"Yeah?"

"What'd you do with him?"

A little piece of him had remained sensible during their kiss and was dying to know the answer to that particular question. She grinned back at him.

"Why? You don't trust me?" she pretended to pout. Sticking her kiss-swollen lips out enticingly.

"Course, I do... I-"

"Then shhh..."

She finished with another long kiss, and then left without another word. She hadn't answered his question, but he didn't know it. All he knew was that his date tonight was on. At that moment, he had forgotten the Joker even existed. A mistake he would never repeat.


	14. And Along Came A Bat

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Here's to Harley clinging onto sanity by a thread...

Oh, and are you ready for Gotham's Dark Knight's debut? Here comes Batsy!

* * *

Embarrassment was setting in now as her thoughts cleared. Harley could hardly believe how she'd acted before. The voice and that laugh... it made her shudder to recall it.

The Joker didn't want a bumbling idiot of a girl to stand by him; he wanted someone intelligent, someone who could provide something he didn't have. He wanted someone who could get him out... and she, Harleen Quinzel, was about to become that person if he had his way...

But what was _**her**_ way? And more important, what did that matter? Right now all she wanted was something simple, and her date tonight was the perfect thing.

"I'm going home. I've talked to David; he believes me... for now. Good night."

She couldn't look at him; she would be sucked in again. When she was around him, he consumed her, eating her whole...

So instead, she'd barely turned into his door before she ran out again.He hollered after her, vainly trying to catch her attention.

"Hey Quinn! Get in here, doll-face!"

She scarcely slowed her pace.

'Not again, Puddin'. Not now.'

"Harley!-"

She used all her will-power to turn the corner where she couldn't hear him anymore. After that, her trip home was fine. She ran through the brisk air to her car, a silver Prius, digging through her purse for the keys. When she finally got them, though, she had already changed her mind.

The weather was nice... cold, but nice. And a walk would do her good. Plus, Arkham was on the good side of Gotham and her apartment wasn't far.

She would be getting home on foot. Heels clicking on the hard pavement, she set off towards her little apartment. Only one look back... only for one second did she feel a little pang in her heart to know that _**he**_ couldn't be there too. He would never be able to walk the streets free again without her help.

Did he deserve it?

No. She was not going to think about this. Picking up speed, she turned her head down and focused on getting home.

She was only a block away when she realized she was being followed. There was a shadow on her left that matched her pace perfectly. Just on the periphery of her vision, but constantly there.

Whoever it was, they wanted her to make no mistake that she was being followed. Praying to God that they would leave her alone, Harley doubled pace. If she could just get home in time...

"Quinn."

The gravelly voice stopped her cold in her tracks. It was the Batman.

"I-it's Q-quinzel," she stuttered. It wasn't like she could run away from this, and no doubt he knew what she'd been doing. All she could do was hope that he didn't know the extent of her relationship with the Joker.

About 200 pounds of extreme ass-kicking machine dropped in front of her.

"That's not what he's been saying. You are the doctor in charge of the Joker's treatment, yes?"

His voice was like knives scratching over asphalt, she could hardly make out the words.

She could only nod her response, and her knees were shaking so badly that she could swear it was visible to the vigilante in front of her. If she closed her eyes, it wouldn't be him before her. There was no Batman stalking her on the streets. No Batman. No Batman... just a man in a mask...

"Well then this is a warning. Stay away from that man. He's dangerous, and he's not to be trusted."

Harley flinched away from his words as though he was accusing her. Keeping her eyes clamped firmly shut, she struggled to form words. Her mouth felt as though it had been numbed with too much Novocaine.

"W-w-why?"

There was no reply. After waiting several minutes, Harley ventured a peek at the space before her. Nothing. He was gone.

All the air she hadn't realized that she'd been holding, rushed out at once. For a minute she felt like she might faint. The world spun before her eyes, and her footing was unsteady. She was forced to lean up against the brick building to regain her balance.

'What's happening to me?'

The rest of her walk was a full-on sprint to her building. She didn't stop until she was locked well inside her apartment and huddled on her bed in a quivering mass.

"Meow."

Her littlest cat, Sox, snuggled against her palm. She stroked him absentmindedly, waiting for shock to wear off.

She hated bats... especially this one. He made her feel guilty, and though Harley supposed that to some extent, she was guilty, she still hated being confronted like that. Batsy scared the living shit out of her.


	15. The Game

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Just so we're all clear, I do not hate David. I'm gonna be a little bit mean to him later on, but in my eyes, he's like the perfect boyfriend. I'd kill to date him, unfortunately, I'd also pick the Joker over him. Screw good guys when you can have the bad boys!

* * *

7:30.

She should get ready. He would be here soon, and hunger was beginning to gnaw on her stomach. She hadn't eaten anything since her quick breakfast this morning. Now she was feeling it.

After lying in bed for several hours, curled up with her cats, Harley was fairly certain that she was over her shock. Still a little shaken, but all in all, still in good condition. Batman couldn't destroy Harley Quinn so easily.

Quinzel.

Her last name was _**Quinzel**_. Not whatever the Joker said.

She climbed to her feet, turned on her CD player and began to pick through her closet. Something perfect... what to wear? She looked good in red...

She tugged her favourite red outfits from her closet and laid them on the bed, looking to her cats as if for their opinion. Sox just yawned and curled into a ball, tail flicking out occasionally.

Fine, then she'd make a decision on her own. Her scarlet dress would be perfect. Mid-thigh in length, clingy in all the right places. David would love it.

Harley dressed slowly, wanting to look perfect. Halfway through applying black eyeliner, the song playing on her stereo struck her. It was 'The Game' by Disturbed.

Her throat suddenly went dry... she didn't need this. She did not deserve to be tormented every second with reminders of him. Of the game she played.

She didn't even bother to turn the CD player off before she unplugged it.

The rest of her make-up was applied to her satisfaction before David buzzed her room. She hurried down to meet him.

Greeting him with a little kiss and a hug, she felt the relief of being with another human... and a normal one at that.

"You look beautiful."

Harley felt his eyes look her up and down. She blushed slightly and thanked him.

"But do you think it's alright for where we're going? I didn't know what to wear-" a thousand little insecurities poured from her mouth. He stopped her with a charming grin.

"You look beautiful," he repeated.

"Okay... So where exactly is this restaurant? You said it was great."

She was eager to get off this open street. A crowded restaurant would do her good right now.

He gave her a sly little smile.

"My place."


	16. One More Night

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Awww... this is so sweet! He's the _perfect_ boyfriend. More Joker in the next one! Promise.

* * *

"I didn't know you could cook," she managed through another bite of the most delicious dinner she had ever had.

He just grinned and teased the last bite onto the fork he was using to feed her.

"You like it?"

"Like it? I love it! Where did you ever learn to cook like this?"

Relaxing, he sat back in his chair and began slowly,

"My mom used to bake a lot and my dad wasn't around most of the time, so I guess I just picked it up. After a while it became second nature. Of course, I got a lot of shit about it in middle school, but now it isn't so bad..."

He finished with another charming smile as he watched her finish the last piece of his creation.

"It's fabulous... I wish I could cook this well. My mom-" she stopped herself.

She didn't know what to say, but she couldn't just end there. Her mother had been a mental patient: a manic depressant. Not fit to teach her to cook. Not fit to take her to school. Not fit to live.

David seemed to know her thoughts exactly, and reached out an arm to pull her close. Simply his presence was comforting.

"Look at the stars... aren't they beautiful?" he asked.

"Yeah..."

She gazed up at the night sky around them. It was crisp outside; not cold exactly, but chilly. Cool enough that it felt good to be cuddled up next to him on the roof of his appartment building.

David lived on the better side of Gotham, which was saying something. Gotham wasn't a cheap city; even her small apartment downtown kept her working hard for rent. He clearly wasn't hard-pressed for money.

Having her here was delicious. He could smell drifts of her perfume floating from her gently, an intoxicating pleasure. As he held her close, he wondered how he would ever be able to let her go. He wouldn't; it was as simple as that.

She was beginning to shiver though. Her dress didn't provide much cover.

"I'm cold."

She was hesitant to break the moment. It was so perfect. The perfect dinner, the night was clear, and the stars were bright. Not to mention that she was with an incredibly great man who she would have fallen for instantly if not for her other little obsession.

But that obsession wasn't there tonight. She could do whatever she wanted.

Even something she would regret.

"I know what would warm you up..."

As their lips met and his hands began to slide over her, she knew that this was gonna be a night she would regret. They barely made it to the elevator, and from there, they were hardly inside his door, and clothes were flying off. His tie was left in the hallway. Jacket was tossed to the floor in the entry, his shirt, on the bedroom floor, her dress crumpled on top of it.

And the rest was lost... no one knew or cared where their clothes were. They had something much more exciting to focus on. A dark little heaven that was all their own.

No matter that she was being unfaithful, no matter that it would have to end, they had tonight. Wasn't that what the Joker had told _**her**_?


	17. Never Start With the Head

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Hi Puddin'! Somebody's back! Way more Joker in the next chapter, I swear. And if you're wondering, I've done what Harley's gonna do on the rooftop. I'm also curious to know if any of you have. Read on and you'll understand.

* * *

Was she convincing enough?

This one question tormented the Joker as he sat alone in his dark cell. How would his little harlequin do under interrogation? Would she hold up, or would she crack and confess.

To be perfectly honest with himself, _**he**_ wasn't convinced of his hold over her.

Sure it was strong when they were together, but the moment she was away from him, she seemed to regain sense! That could not be tolerated! This easy of a kill can't just walk away; he wouldn't let that happen.

He would have to possess her entirely.

Harley woke to a mixture of feelings. One, she felt deeply satisfied with the previous night. David was fabulous. Two, she wished intensely that she could take it all back. Best night of her life or no, it would destroy a lot of her future. And three, she felt compelled to hide what she'd done from the Joker. He could never know about this... he'd kill her.

Simple as that.

David was in the shower, and the steady rush of water told her that he wasn't coming out anytime soon. That was fine by her; she preferred to be gone before he got out... but where were her clothes?

Wrapped in a bed-sheet she stole from his room, Harley began her search of his apartment. Luckily, her lingerie had remained close to where they'd slept; it had just fallen to the floor beside his bed. She found her dress heaped a few paces away on the floor next to his shirt. One heeled shoe was tossed carelessly into the kitchen, and the other lay lodged in the couch.

Okay... bra, underwear, dress, shoes. What else was missing?... phone.

Where was her purse?

She must have left it on the roof.

Tugging the dress over her head, Harley left the apartment, taking care not to be too loud. She would rather he didn't know that she was walking out.

She jabbed the elevator button multiple times, wanting to get out quick. She needed to get back to work before she did anything else she'd regret. This guilt was going to be enough, and besides she had a splitting headache.

As she pulled the roof door open, a stream of bright light hit her, momentarily blinding her. For the first time that day, Harley realized just how much her head could ache. Too much wine last night; another strike against her.

This was gonna be a loooong day.

The morning air was even cooler than it had been last night, and Harley shivered as she searched the roof.

It was early, but already the streets of Gotham were packed with the usual traffic jam. Horns blared noisily and drivers swore and yelled at each other.

Their things lay scattered in a littered picnic. Exactly as they'd left them. And her purse, right where she'd left it, was lying on a heap of blankets. Good; she grabbed it.

Time to go. She made for the door and pulled the handle towards her.

It didn't budge.

What? How was it locked? They hadn't been locked out last night. Panic began to take over immediately. That was her major flaw; she was a panicker.

"Quinn."

That gravelly voice was back. The Batman...

Didn't this rodent have someone else to pick on? Why her?

She turned slowly, and faced the Caped Crusader.

"Yeah, that's me."

She was in no mood for this. Seeing Batsy up close once a week was plenty. Once in a lifetime was perfect, and now he was shooting two for two.

"Thought you said it was 'Quinzel'," his accusatory tone was back. His voice was like a cement truck crashing into a sandpaper factory. At this hour of the morning, before her daily coffee and with her headache, it was unbearable.

"It's whatever you want it to be... say what you need to say and leave, Batbrain."

Whoa! Where was this coming from? Harley was surprised by her own rudeness. So was he...

It caught him off-guard and for a moment he seemed to stumble over his words,

"I-I... uh- I want you to look at this."

He regained himself and produced a Manila folder from under his cloak.

"What is it?" she asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

"A file on sociopaths... and a list of the Joker's gimmicks. I don't want you falling for his tricks. He's dangerous."

"If I take this, will you go?"

"Sure."

Anything to make that voice stop. She took the folder and opened it up.

_**"Antisocial personality disorder** (**APD**) is a mental disorder characterized by a "pervasive disregard for the law and the rights of others." It is defined by the American Psychiatric Association's Diagnostic and Statistical Manual: "The essential feature for the diagnosis is a pervasive pattern of disregard for, and violation of, the rights of others that begins in childhood or early adolescence and continues into adulthood due to the lack of love and care for the child." Deceit and manipulation are considered essential features of the disorder."_

Blah, blah, blah.

Why would she waste her time with this? She went to psychology school; she knew what defined a sociopath. Who did this Batsy think he was anyways?

She looked up and he was gone. That's great. No good-bye and she was still stuck up on the roof.

Screw this place!

She emptied the folder over the side of the building, watching the papers blow to the ground and tossed the folder aside. That file was thick, Batbrain must've spent some time collecting all that shit. For a second, Harley felt a little bit ashamed to have thrown it aside so quickly. He _**was**_ just trying to help.

That feeling passed quickly. And her panic returned instead; no one knew she was up here. No one but the Batman, and clearly, he was done with "helping" today.

Having no better plan, Harley began to pound on the door.

"HELP!" she called.

No response. The noise from the street easily drowned out everything else.

She tried to call again. Useless. And her own voice was excruciating to her ears.

Defeated she slid down the wall to the ground next to the empty folder... but it wasn't _**entirely**_ empty. She'd missed a blue Post-It note. Faintly curious, and with nothing better to do, she picked it up.

It was hand-written and sloppily done. So the Bat had bad handwriting... who knew? Harley squinted through dry contacts to read it.

**'The door pushes.'**

She blinked and read it again.

Seriously? This day sucked.

Getting to her feet slowly, and feeling a warm blush creep into her cheeks, Harley turned the handle and gingerly pressed against the door. It opened.

Man, she felt stupid.

From his vantage point on the neighboring rooftop, the Batman watched Harleen Quinzel disappear into the apartment building. He'd have to keep an eye on her; judging from her behavior towards him, the Joker had already slipped into her mind. And once inside, the Joker was damned near impossible to get out.


	18. You Bought It

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Time to be Jokerized!

* * *

Where the hell was she? Harley was never late and now it was almost noon. He hated to admit it, but life was boring without her. With nothing better to do, he began to whistle to himself.No particular tune, just random notes thrown together, jarring the silence.

Anything to pass the time.

She knew she should go into work. If she didn't, she would only draw suspicion to herself. Still, she couldn't do it. She didn't want to go back and risk seeing David again. Or worse, she would be risking exposure to the Joker. And something told her that Mistah J wouldn't be too pleased with her if he found out.

She spent another hour this way, debating with herself, before she worked up the courage to go in.

Finally.

He could hear heels clicking on the tile outside his room. She was here, and about time too, his whistling had started bad and had gone progressively downhill from there. He needed some company.

But the heels kept clicking right past his room. He heard the door next to his open and close securely. She wasn't coming.

After all this time, she wasn't even coming in to see him.

"HARLEY!! Harley Quin!! HARLEY!!" he yelled as loud as he could.

She would have to come in some time. They wouldn't let him go on screaming forever. Someone would complain and then she would have to come in.

After a few minutes and several piercing shrieks later, a bedraggled-looking Harley stepped through his door.

"Okay, I'm here, you can stop now."

He eyed her suspiciously.

"You look a little hung-over, Doll-face... have you been drinking? My dad was a drinker... nasty stuff."

He looked dangerous, but she was too absorbed in self-pity to care just then. This was a terrible day, and it looked like it was only gonna get worse.

And suddenly she was angry with him; she just wanted to retaliate, to say something that would hurt him. Nothing came to mind.

And besides, she knew she still loved him. That wouldn't change overnight.

He sat fidgetting in his chair for several minutes, all the while without looking up at her. She was still standing near the door, he wanted her to sit down.

Sighing, she sank into the chair across from him, but refused to break the silence. She just sat and eyed him stonily.

The calm before the storm.

"Soooo... where have ya been, Quinn? I'm getting awfully lonely without someone to talk to."

Her annoyance at him vanished instantly. A look of pure glee spread across her face.

"You missed me! Really? Awww, Mistah J, I knew you would! I'm sorry, I didn't come in, but I thought you'd be mad, you see, about-"

She stopped, horrified. She'd been in this room for about six minutes and he hadn't even asked her about David. Six minutes and she'd almost spilled everything. She hoped that her cut off hadn't been too noticable.

It was. Nothing slipped by the Joker.

"Why would I be mad, Darling?... Does David suspect something," his voice was as sweet as poison. A delicious venom.

David. She knew a spark must've lit her eyes at his name, but she struggled hard to hide it. Her stuttering voice probably didn't help her charade.

"I-I thought you'd be m-mad about, umm- about last night?"

Her excuse came out a question and she didn't answer the question he had asked.

She could tell he didn't buy it.

"And what about, uh- David... you said last night that he believed you. How did you manage to -uh... _**convince**_ him."

He played with the word convince, making her skin crawl. It was as though he knew her secret. Like it was written in her eyes.

"Oh, I convinced him real good, Puddin'. He and I go way back, he believed me."

She maneuvered around his question. He saw right through her,

"Yeah, yeah, but _**how**_? What did you say? What exactly did you do? How can I -uh... be _**sure**_?"

Harley could see this going downhill.

"He's convinced that I still love him, I swear, Puddin'!"

He was getting tired of her dodging the question. The Joker grabbed her by the hair and pulled her close.

"I didn't ask 'if' he was convinced; I ASKED HOW!"

"I-I... we, uh-" she couldn't say it, but the wicked grin spreading across his face told her that he knew.

"You slept with him, didn't you?"

She nodded and winced away, waiting for the blow to come; it didn't. He was laughing... applauding her performance. Taking a step back, he tweaked her cheek,

"Why you little _**whore**_! How positively delightful!"

He clapped, almost dancing around the room. Harley felt humiliated and she was near tears.

"You really would do _**anything**_ for me, wouldn't you, Doll-face?"

She nodded again, sniffling slightly, but he wasn't even looking. He paced the floor with a sense of purpose. How could he use this little tease to his best advantage?

He could destroy David.

That was an appealing thought, it would get him back for his little attempt with the knife. Plus, there was no other source of entertainment here at Arkham.

He'd take it.

"Harley?"

She looked up at him through watery eyes.

"Yeah, Mistah J?"

"Harley, I want you to... uh- keep seeing David... Lead him on..."

He bounced on his heels, excited.

"Make him believe that you really care for him, and then -uh, well, crush him!"

His tongue danced over his lips while he spoke, smacking loudly.

"B-but, Puddin', I don't wanna hurt him. You didn't say anything about hurting him!"

He stopped and looked over at her... she wasn't joking.

He got real close to her face and stood there for a moment, emphasizing his advantage in height and weight (not to mention brains), before continuing in a dangerously sweet tone,

"If you want to play games with the Joker, Doll-face, people are gonna get hurt... Darwian Theory, love; only the strong survive. Got it?"

She looked pathetic cowering before him. Beautiful, but pathetic. She wanted to prove she that could be strong. She wanted to survive this.

And so, Harley pulled out a bright smile and that foreign laugh from yesterday.

"So it's kill or be killed, huh, Mistah J."

"That's my girl," he purred, and she gave a squeak of pure delight as he tugged her into a rough kiss. They were just barely out of the camera's view.

Safe for now.


	19. The Schemers and the Freaks

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: I like this job- I like it!

* * *

For one whole week Harley kept to this schedule. A night out with David; the next day with the Joker. An entire week of deceitful lies, and now, her conscience ached.

David believed her. Completely and truly. And she didn't want to play this game anymore; it would destroy him. Not that she had wanted to play to begin with, but it had made her Puddin' so happy. And if Mistah J was happy, so was she.

But this had to come to an end; it couldn't last forever. She simply wouldn't do it.

"Knock knock, Mistah J!"

She entered his room, pulling on a bright face. He waited by the door, eager to hear about how she'd tricked David the night before. Before he could ask, she walked straight past him and gestured to a chair.

"Sit."

"Stay and roll over-" he erupted into loud laughter.

She wasn't laughing. Not today.

"We need to talk, Mistah J. I can't do this anymore; I think it's time to break things off with David. All I want is you."

Most of his smile vanished; he was pouting now.

"But this is so much fun! Don't you think so?"

The expression on her face was enough to answer. She looked awful. Her blond hair was falling out of its ponytail, and she looked so tired.

"You know what I think, Puddin'? I think we need a loooong day off. Let's go for a walk."

She didn't want him to get angry with her. Maybe if she took him out then he would be easier to talk to.

Harley looked both ways before leading him into the open hallway. No one was there.

"Aren't you gonna tell David where we're going?" he asked loudly outside Dr. Young's office.

She hissed at him to be quiet, but it was too late. David had heard and he was coming to the door.

"Morning, Harley."

Now she had to acknowledge him. She stopped and turned hesitantly back towards his office, her expression hostile. She glared at the Joker, who, quite oblivious to her feelings, was trying hard to hold back his insane laughter.

In that moment she hated him.

"Yeah, yeah. Hi. I'm going for a walk here, with him," she jabbed a finger in the Joker's direction, "I think we both need a break from treatment."

He was taken aback by her tone. This wasn't the Harley he knew.

"Oh, alright. Mind if I come?"

David was just itching to be with her. You could see it in his eyes when you looked at him.

Harley had played her part perfectly, the clever little minx. She was a good girl; the Joker would have to reward her somehow. But now she rushed to answer,

"NO!... I mean, dontcha have work or something more important?"

He looked put out.

"Yeah, but I could-" David began, but she was already shaking her head no.

How could she not enjoy this? Couldn't she see the hilarity of it all?

He, the Joker, would have to teach her. And being who he was, this was his specialty.

"Aw, come on, Doll-face. Let 'im come."

It wasn't a request. Harley swallowed and forced a tight smile to her lips.

"Well, I guess it's settled then. Come on."

By the time David returned with his jacket Harley was already walking away. What was up with her?

She was so cold to him at work; it was like she hated him. David was confused and hurt, but he tried to act nonchalant as he strode down long halls side by side with the Joker.

A sharp elbow to the ribs brought him back to the present.

"She's a regular fireball, huh?"

"Yeah... guess so."

Something like pride shone in the lunatic's eyes when he spoke about her. What was going on here?

He had his suspicions, but he prayed they were wrong. Harley would never do something like what he imagined and so he felt ashamed to be jealous. Still, regardless of what Harley may or may not be doing, he had to keep a better eye on her. For the entire week that they'd been dating, he had not once seen her at work. All that time she spent locked away in cell 1304. Harley spent far too much time with this nut.

It was beginning to show.

The Joker was contemplating how to best show Harley how fun crime could be. He knew that in order to teach her the beauty of torment, he'd have to reveal just how pathetic and lowly the human mind really was. Especially a jealous human mind.

That's where David came into his day plans. He would be exhibit A.

Crazed laughter just poured out of the guy next to him. David wondered how Harley could stand it all; no wonder a little wear and tear was starting to show. This psycho could mess the sanest of people up.

For the future, David would put all suspicion behind him. Harley was far too smart to start a relationship with a patient. She knew the dangers of that; perhaps better than he had.


	20. Pretty Poison

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Another update. You guys should feel special to have so many updates so quickly.

* * *

Poisonous women. This appeared to be his addiction; David seemed to be drawn to "les femmes dangereuses", and he couldn't escape it. This affliction had begun well before he met Pamela Isley, but she was by far the worst.

Poison Ivy.

The name screamed danger, and yet he had pleaded his way to the head of her treatment, regardless. She was beautiful with her flaming hair and emerald eyes. Like an exotic flower.

She was belladonna; beautiful, but lethal.

The fool that he was, David had allowed her to creep into his heart, smothering him with those toxic kisses. It took less than two weeks for her to have him completely under her influence. He was a puppet on her strings and she wanted out. Arkham was no place for such a wild beauty; she was locked away, hidden from the world. He wanted to set her free. It was by chance only that he had not followed through with his plan.

Inadvertently, _**Harley**_ had stopped him.

With her transfer to the asylum, Harley had been placed under the tutelage of a senior psychologist: him. It was her bright spirit and powerful faith in the practice that brought him back. She opened his eyes to the world outside the darkness; life beyond Arkham's padded walls. From that moment, the spell broke and he began to fall for Harley.

Admittedly, falling for a patient and falling for a co-worker weren't too different, but in his own eyes, it was a huge improvement. Quick as he could, he got off of Ivy's treatment and left her in the capable hands of his boss. Isley was furious; she still wouldn't speak to him when he visited.

But Harley was what he wanted now, and seeing her so undone was terrible. She was stressed to her limits, working all day with that psychopath and then spending nights out with him. All he wanted was for her to have fun again, the way she used to when she was just an intern.

Now she was falling, he could see it, and he couldn't stop her. This madman was gonna kill her; she wouldn't stop trying to help him until it was too late. This one couldn't be cured, and yet she would keep trying. Harley believed in everyone.

No one was beyond saving; now he'd have to save her.

At least she hadn't gotten physically attached to the Joker yet; as far as he knew, her relationship with him was purely professional.

He had no reason to believe otherwise. It should be easy to pull her back again.

He would talk to Dr. Goodman again; she had helped him before. By taking him off of Ivy, she had saved him; she could take Harley off of the Joker.

But first he had to survive with them outside. What was Harley thinking, letting that monster roam around outdoors? He couldn't be trusted.

The air was cold and he had begun to get a cold, this wouldn't be good for him, but now that he'd forced his way into an invitation, he couldn't just leave. So, he continued to walk along in silence, lost in thought.

Harley and the Joker were whispering about something, but he wasn't paying attention. He was too caught up in his plans of saving her from an unknown monster.

"David. Let's stop here for a while."

Her voice broke into his mind.

"Okay."

They sat down, but the Joker kept walking. He showed no signs of stopping.

"What about him? He can't just walk around like that!"

The Joker half-turned back and shot a look of pure contempt towards David.

"He's not an animal, Dr. Young."

Harley was done talking to him. She stared forward blankly.

"Okay, I'm sorry..." he looked to the Joker, "Go ahead."

"Nah, you want me to stay, that's fine."

The lunatic fell to the ground heavily beside him. He was too close, invading all personal space. David could feel his hot breath on his cheek as he spoke. And that face made his spine tingle. How could Harley stand this?

"So- uh, David. Pull a knife on anyone recently?"

David froze as his knife flicked out of nowhere into the lunatic's hand.

"That's not mine," he pulled a stony face on.

Harley gave a little laugh, it sounded a bit hysterical, "Mistah J says it is. Why would he lie? Puddin' has no reason to."

Puddin'? David dismissed it quickly, but jealousy built up anyways. Maybe there _**was**_ something here.

"Yeah David... I'm a man of my word."

The tongue on this guy was just going berserk. It flew around his mouth, touching the scars on his cheeks. Suddenly David felt intensely uncomfortable.

He stumbled to his feet.

"You know, I guess I do have a lot of work to do. I should probably go."

Harley was watching him with a kind of smile he had never seen before. He didn't like it. Instead of her, it was the Joker who turned with a look of sadistic glee on his face.

"Leaving so soon? But we've just gotten started... was it the knife thing?"

David said nothing and turned to leave, it was Harley that stopped him,

"Jeez, Mistah J, you were right... Why so serious?"

The wave of shock that ran through Dr. Young must have been visible, but he strove to pretend that he hadn't heard.

"Good-bye, Harley... be careful."

His last few words weren't audible, but he had to say them. She had lost it.

David headed to Arkham quickly, but stopped just out of their line of sight. He had been wrong; things were far more serious here than he had thought. But what could he do?

For several seconds, he just stood there, pacing back and forth, pulling at his hair.

'Harley... the Joker. Harley and the Joker... the Joker and Harley... Harley Quinn... Harlequin.'

His brain couldn't compute it all. He wished desperately for to all be a mistake. That he had misunderstood.

Starting back to the clearing, he was determined to prove himself wrong. Their figures were barely visible through the bushes and trees in this part of Arkham's lawn, but he could hear them clearly if they spoke.

He didn't want to spy, but he wanted to know so desperately. The Joker was talking.

"See, wasn't that fun, Doll-face?"

Harley's expression was blank for a few seconds and then a slow smile spread across her face, splitting it wide, almost unnaturally so.

"Did you see him, Mistah J! Is it always like that? I wanna play!"

Her excitement made her breathless and her voice was unearthly, it was almost as disturbing as the way she was looking at the Joker. David couldn't pull his eyes away.

"You liked it? That was nothing. There's so much more we could do! See, Harl, I knew you'd come around."

She let out a little squeal of pleasure as he tugged her towards him. For a minute she hesitated, laying across his chest, but then she sank into a deep kiss.

David couldn't watch anymore. Lights flashed before his eyes as he stumbled back towards Arkham. He was nearly blacking out from the shock. All his emotions were jumbled, anger and hurt and love and hate were flying around, spinning before his eyes into a constant whirl of color.

He was gonna kill that son of a bitch... and he was gonna make Harley watch.


	21. Joker's Favor

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: My readers are the greatest! Love you all!

* * *

The Joker pulled back suddenly from their kiss; he seemed to lock eyes with something in the brush and immediately he burst into gales of laughter.

"What is it Puddin'? Did you hear something?"

Harley's wild eyes searched the clearing frantically as she strove to reorganize her hair and clothes. The Joker, however, just sat and cackled madly towards the bushes between them and Arkham. She wasn't going to get much out of him.

"Did somebody see us?"

Horror was beginning to dawn on her as she considered the possibilities.

"Let's just say that- uh, David here, just got our little joke! Hahahahehehe..."

His laughter continued to strain against her ears,

"Oh no!"

"Oh yes!"

He tugged her to her feet and began to pull her around in an odd little waltz,

"This is _**exactly**_ what we wanted... chaos..."

Before, she would have trembled at the thought of what she was doing, now she squealed happily as he pulled her close. But they couldn't be together quite yet; there were still more obstacles in their way. She was about to knock them down.

"We better go... before he tells someone."

But she didn't move. His arms felt so good around her.

"To my cell then, Dr. Quinzel," he said, pulling a melodramatic air over himself.

It made her giggle and want to hold him even more, but she acted along.

"Right this way then, Mr. J," she added, playfully pushing him ahead with her clipboard.

With one last look onto the bright open air, the two of them ducked back into the fluorescent gloom that was Arkham. As they snuck through the halls silently, Harley noticed nothing unusual. All the office doors were closed, their owners working hard within. Even David's door was shut tightly; no noise came from inside.

He kissed her one last time in the doorway, but she backed away, moving her clipboard between them,

"Not here," she whispered, "someone's gonna see."

His grinning leer faced her, "You're a piece a work, ya know that, Doll-face?... Not the least bit concerned about letting a certified nutso onto the streets, but you- uh... _**collapse**_at the thought that we'd be spotted safe and sound inside Arkham."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

Another haunting laugh was her only reply. With a sound of finality, Harley sealed the door securely behind her and turned to her office.

David was there.

Her heart nearly stopped, then it picked up pace to a frenzy.

"W-what are you d-doing here?"

She could barely stammer words out through her tongue-tied lips. A thousand stories and lies popped into her head at once, but she couldn't force any of them out.

The look on his face was one that could kill, and in that moment, Harley lost all nerve she may have possessed.

"Do you love him?"

"What?" she tried to act nonchalant, "Who do you mean?"

A little bit of courage was coming back to her.

"You know damn well WHO I MEAN!"

His fist slammed into the wall beside her head, causing her to jump several inches. Nobody seemed to care,;not so much as a mouse stirred in the artificially lit halls.

"David, c-calm down... you're scaring me..."

The man before her dropped his head to the ground for a moment, breathing heavily. He was clearly making an attempt to calm himself. After several seconds, he raised his eyes to meet her again. This time it looked as though tears were pricking within them.

"Tell me... say it was a mistake... tell me you love me"

His voice was forced and hushed, hurt and pain filled every syllable. Harley could hardly bear to stand there and watch him. She did care a little for him; enough that this was too much.

"David, I-"

"TELL ME YOU LOVE ME!"

"I-I can't."


	22. Going InSane

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Sorry if this one's typed badly, I'm also watching "The Laughing Fish"

* * *

For a moment that felt like an eternity, David made no movement. Nothing registered within his head, and his expression remained blank. Then his face flushed a deep scarlet color, and Harley tried to back away, but she stood between him and the wall. There was nowhere to go.

"You need..." he panted, "to make a decision. Me... or him."

Somewhere in these few seconds, Harley had found her voice and her courage. She was gonna stand up for Mistah J. Stretching as tall as she could, Harley spat into David's face,

"You know, you think you're _**sooo **_much better than him... _**but look at you**_. Look at yourself, my puddin' never asked me to choose between you... Never."

Now that his anger was beginning to cool, David was becoming more cruel. He taunted her now,

"What? So **_puddin' _**was so confident in his ability to charm you that he didn't even need a little reassurance?...

"Or was it because he doesn't really want you?... maybe he didn't ever want you to begin with-"

A sharp slap caught him right in the cheek,

"Shut UP! He does too love me! He does!"

Harley knew she should ignore him, but she couldn't block out everything. What if Mistah J was _**just**_ playing with her?

David's leering grin was back, red spreading across his face. How could she have ever thought that grin was charming? He looked at her with mock horror.

"Did I _**strike**_ a nerve?"

The full force of his hand struck her on the face, sending her crashing into the wall behind her. Pain exploded in her skull, and she tried to stumble away, but he wound a fist full of hair and yanked her back.

"Where ya goin'? Dontcha wanna play?"

He was done panting, his face had returned to its original color, and he no longer cared how he'd felt for Harley. That woman was dead to him. All there was now was his hands wrapped around a fragile neck, choking the life from her.

Harley kicked out and clawed madly at the hands on her throat. She couldn't breathe, she was going to die. Through her pain and fear, Harley could hear David's voice. It was eerily calm.

"You were so eager to play the Joker's game. Why not mine? You took everything away from me. Harleen Quinzel was everything to me... but you, _**you**_ are nothing."

Pressure was building in her lungs and her head pounded as she gasped for air. Her hands ceased their clawing and fell uselessly to her sides. The hands on her throat however only tightened, bruising her skin even further.

A few seconds more and she'd be dead. Her only plan was a long shot. Mustering the last of her oxygen, Harley forced herself to form words.

"I-uh-ew."

Her last bit of oxygen slipped away in an indistinguishable moan, but the hands loosened a little.

The tiniest amount of air reached her lungs, sending her into a frenzy. Still she forced herself to repeat.

"I-luv-yew."

This time he understood. A single tear leaked from his left eye and trickled down his cheek. It was still red from where she had hit him.

Shock, hurt, and bitter disbelief registered in his eyes, but something new was there too. A spark of hope lit deep within his icy gray eyes. Part of him believed her.

His hands, however, remained hesitantly at their post, but they had loosened to the point where she could breathe a little. This oxygen gave her a sudden burst of energy. In it, Harley sent a well-placed, if not powerful, kick at him and she started running.

The air was a shock, making her dizzy as she stumbled down the hall. David was doubled over, but he'd recover soon, she had to reach help.

Threatening to pass out as she slid her access card through the slot, Harley fell in through his door, collapsing on the floor.

"Help... puddin' please..."

He stood and pulled her to her feet, but she blacked out and fell, slumped up, against him. Setting Harley aside gently, he turned to face the door, mentally crossing David off the 'Alive' list.

No one damaged the Joker's girl.


	23. The Night is Darkest

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This one probably won't have the amazing violent scene you guys were picturing; you can blame that on my best friend who has threatened me with death if I kill David.

Oh, and sorry I haven't posted in forever, but I've been on a low for the past couple weeks. Luckily, I'm feeling better now so you can expect posts pretty frequently.

* * *

Anger may have made David act rashly with Harley, but there was no way he was going to go up against the Joker. Not when that man had a knife and a woman to fight for. Harley was in there right now, though. This was his chance to kill that son of a bitch with her watching.

David hesitated outside the door to the cell. No sound came from within and all he could see was Harley slumped up against the wall.

"Dr. Young?"

David jumped and spun around to face Dr. Goodman, his head just covering the little window to the cell. He stumbled to find the right words.

"I- uh... Good morning, Doctor."

She looked suspicious and he wasn't sure what he wanted to tell her. On one hand, he could rat them out and enjoy seeing Harley rot in a padded cell till the end of time... that was an appealing thought. Or he could wait, cut the bastard to pieces with his own knife, and _**then**_ turn in Harley.

"What are you doing here? I've been paging you for a half an hour, we need you in the conference room. There's been a security breach with the Scarecrow. He's tried to escape again and now the Mayor's here talking about budget and funding... We need a senior psychiatrist to back us up."

His head was spinning; the two necks he wanted to slit so desperately were right behind him. Trapped like the rats they were. He could kill them right now and the worst he would get was a slap on the wrist. Nobody cared what happened to the Joker; maybe a few people would miss Harley though...

Dr. Goodman was still there. She peered up at him through thick-rimmed spectacles.

"Dr. Young? Are you feeling well? You look a little sick."

"Huh? Oh, I'm fine... one minute, I'll meet you in the conference room."

"Of course. You've got five minutes."

"Yeah, sure."

She was already turning back the way she came. Soon the doctor had turned a corner and was out of eyesight.

Five minutes.

He could be done with them in that time... Harley he could take easy, she was so weak and little... the Joker was another matter, and he still had that knife...

One of them would be dead in five minutes.

Suddenly an indescribably powerful urge to live hit him. There was no way his plan would work, and David didn't want to end up as a bloody pile in cell 1304.

With one last look into the white room, David pulled himself towards the meeting.

Time to earn brownie points. A little credibility could be useful pretty soon.


	24. Just Before Dawn

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Ready for a break out? Sorry the last one was so short. These two were supposed to be combined but I ran out of time.

* * *

He sat, head bowed, with the knife clasped tightly in his hands. He turned it over and over waiting for her to wake up... waiting for a plan to hit him... waiting for anything really...

He hadn't expected _**this**_; not that he knew what it was he was feeling. He simply knew that somewhere along this road, he'd taken a wrong turn and now he was in too deep. For once, the Joker needed a plan.

He was in love with Harley.

Not according to plan. This threw any fragment of a plan into a paper shredder. He couldn't fall in love, he was a psychotic murderer, not a loving, tender man. Love was not his _forte_.

She was beginning to wake up though, and soon David would be back. With David comes cops, doctors, lawyers, and probably even Batman. Batsy definately wouldn't want to miss this; it was gonna be big.

Which meant they had to get out.

Now.

"Harley?"

His voice was harsh to her groggy ears, but she recognized it immediately. She wasn't dead, and he was here.

Life had a purpose again.

She coughed and choked through her dry throat. Strong arms helped her to a chair and held her until the spasm stopped.

"Harley, do you remember what happened?"

His face danced before her eyes, enlarging the hideous scars splitting it wide. She nodded and then swayed as blood rushed to her head. For a moment she almost fell over, but she managed to stay upright clinging to his shirt.

He continued, tongue working madly as he spoke,

"Then we- uh, gotta get outta here."

Her eyes were glazed, but she heard every word as he said them. They were going to break out of Arkham Asylum.

Impossible.

And yet... so easy. She hadn't seen any guards in the hallways _**and**_ she'd already snuck him offgrounds on three separate occasions.

They could do it.

She was fumbling at her coat pocket. What was she grabbing?

A flash of plastic caught his eye and he reached out to free her ID card from her jacket. Their freedom was within grasp... if they could get out.

There was no way she could walk, let alone run. And he couldn't leave her. He eyed the camera nervously. No one had come yet, so who would come now? Harley had been here for nearly an hour; no one was coming.

"If I- umm, carry you... could you- uh... hang on?"

Another weak nod and a cough. There were bruises on her pretty throat. The Joker swore to himself that every mark on her would be avenged tenfold on Dr. Young. That man would suffer.

Harley swung up on his back like a life-size ragdoll. She held on as tightly as she could, trying to muffle her moans by biting down on her lip. The pain was intense, but she'd live. Bruises seemed to cover every inch of her body, but she'd be damned if that was going to be the reason they got caught.

"Hold on Dollface,"

The plastic card slipped through the door without fail and they were in the hallway. It was empty; no one suspected. Still he hurried down the corridor.

Cold air was a shock as they broke through into the open. Police cars lined the drive.

Must be the Scarecrow's stunt. That meant Batman was closeby; Harley stopped breathing.

She was afraid of making even the littlest noise as they crept towards an empty police car. Securing her in the passenger seat, the Joker turned to the wheel. Keys in the ignition.

He loved the cops in Gotham.


	25. I Like This Job

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Twinkle, Twinkle, little Bat. How I wonder what you're at. Up above the world you fly, like a teatray in the sky.

Sorry, I've been as Mad as a Hatter recently!

* * *

Who taught this man how to drive?

Tires squealed on asphalt as they twisted and turned around Gotham's streets. Harley had regained a bit of her head as the cop car sped through town. Instantly, she felt extremely grateful that the Joker had strapped her into her seat.

Harley screamed aloud as they almost collided with a semi crossing an intersection. The driver honked angrily and pulled to an abrupt halt causing another string of cars to smash into it. Bits of metal flew everywhere and she covered her eyes.

The Joker, oblivious to her discomfort, cackled madly behind the wheel,

"See Dollface, **_this... _**This is why I do what I do."

She only yelped and pointed to another car coming their way.

He swerved at the last second, allowing the car to catch the passenger-side mirror. Tension was building up inside her; she was either going to have a mental breakdown, pass out, or explode.

The explosion came in an odd manner. Her new voice joined his in laughter as cars flew by. Completely abandoned his driving to gawk at the woman next to him, the Joker didn't turn fast enough and the car got clipped in the back. She giggled madly as they spun around in circles.

Maybe David _**had**_ rattled her brains.

"You feelin' okay, Harl?"

He extended a hand to touch her forehead, but Harley ducked under his arm and spun the steering wheel sharply to the left.

"Uh-oh, Mistah J. We got company!"

Another set of headlights lit their rear-view mirrors. Batsy.

"Hold on... let's- uh... see if he likes this."

Another sharp turn landed them in the middle of a sidewalk ploughing a path through the people walking there. Batman followed from the road, too noble to follow. Harley leaned out her window to shout at the people,

"Outta the way! Move it or lose it People!... Student Driver!! Ooh, thanks for the hat."

She yanked one off of a haughty-looking woman as they passed.

"Whatcha think of it, Boss?"

He barely cast a glance at her,

"Gorgeous."

"I don't like it," she said, tossing the hat at the Batmobile following them.

It landed square on the windshield.

Screams came from everywhere as the cop car spun down from the curb and hit into the side of the black tank in their pursuit. Batman pulled the thing to a screeching halt, skidding several feet and spinning in loops.

Airbags deplored from anywhere possible, knocking the wind out of Harley even as she tried to laugh. This car was totaled.

A flash of silver and the airbags burst, opening a path out.

Grabbing a pistol for herself and a shotgun for her Puddin', Harley dove out through what was left of the windshield. More screams from everywhere. People were so panicked, Harley knew that they could hardly be spotted amongst the masses.

And the Joker wasn't in his usual gear; the purple suit and grease paint was left at Arkham. At a glance they looked fairly normal. Still, she ran in a dead sprint, pushing through the ocean of people fleeing the road.

Batman was nowhere to be seen; there was nothing but the sea of heads in front of her and behind her. A sharp shove to the back sent her sprawling to the ground. Hundreds of feet threatened to trample her as Harley fought to get up.

She couldn't see the Joker; where was he? Suddenly panic gripped her just as tightly as everyone around her and she felt alone despite the bodies everywhere.

A hand grabbed her by the elbow and steered her off to the side of the alley. She couldn't see who it was, but she had a 50/50 guess. It was either the Batman or the Joker.

A door opened and engulfed them, closing out the hysteria of the streets. The new room was dark and smelled old; it hadn't been used in a while.

"Like my- uh, Batcave?"

The room was filled with old equipment and something that resembled an assembly line. Where were they?

She turned to see the Joker. A squeal of relief propelled her into his arms. He caught her with ease and locked her in a deep kiss for several seconds.

"We did it-" she breathed, "we broke outta Arkham."

"I'm the Joker, Dollface, what'd ya expect?"

Her previous question returned to mind as she looked around,

"Hey Puddin' where exactly are we?"

"Old shipping company... picked it for the name."

He gestured to the old machines.

_**Funni-Bone Shipping Co.**_

Perfect.


	26. A Wild Card

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Man, I'm tired... I don't get any sleep these days! Another chapter ASAP.

* * *

They had disappeared into the crowd and Batman knew it was useless to force his way through the masses. He'd just have to wait until the Joker made his next transgression of the law. That was predictable; it made sense in some sick way.

What didn't make sense was Ms. Quinzel. She'd been a talented doctor at Arkham and in just under two weeks, the Joker had warped her mind into something unrecognizable.

Bruce understood the Joker's motives in ensnaring the beautiful blonde, but what was in it for Harley? She was pretty, young, and ambitious; he was a sociopathic, homicidal clown. Where's the attraction?

This was a puzzle that he had a feeling he would never solve.

And although Bruce was still uncertain of her attachment to the Joker, Batman knew it was his duty to find her. Maybe this was all a mistake.

She could be innocent.

Pulling the Batmobile in a tight circle and dodging the people swarming around it, he headed back to Wayne Enterprises. Sirens wailed in the distance; evidently Arkham had noticed its loss of patient and staff.

This would be all over the papers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**_"Break-Out at Arkham: BATMAN fails to capture"_**

**_"Clown Duo Prowling Gotham"_**

**_"Caped Crusader Suspected as Accomplice"_**

**_"Batman, Enough is Enough."_**

Bruce hung his head as he sat before a blue computer screen. It had been nearly a month and not a peep from the Joker. Harley had been spotted once robbing a costume store, but she had disappeared before he arrived. The man behind the counter was knocked out and a single playing card was left on his chest.

Gotham was insane with panicked fear. Everyone suspected everyone else and slandering lies were flying towards Batman. The people needed him to do something, but even the Caped Crusader was at a loss. The Joker was never this quiet.

Silence only meant something big was coming... something Batman didn't want to think about.

"Master Bruce? Ah, I'd thought I'd find you here. Your friend from the paper has arrived... Miss Vale, I think."

Vicki.

He let out an audible sigh of aggravation. Vicki was charming, but too perceptive. Sometimes Bruce suspected that she knew more about him that he desired.

"Tell her I'm not home... I've got work to do, Alfred."

"Very well, Master Bruce. I'll send her on her way."

The butler disappeared and reappeared moments later, a playing card grasped in his hand.

"She brought something for you... not the Joker's usual calling card, sir."

The Ace of Spades.

"How did she get this? It's police evidence."

"Miss Vale would like to remind you that you are not the only one who can get whatever they want."

So she knew... she knew he was Batman.

"Would you care for anything, sir?"

"No thanks, Alfred. Take the night off... I'll be down here."

The old man turned towards the door.

"Wait- Alfred... why do you think he'd change cards?"

"I don't know Master Bruce, maybe we have an impostor on our hands."

Bruce shook his head,

"I don't think that's it, Alfred. Can you think of anything it could mean?"

"Perhaps he has an ace up his sleeve? Miss Quinn's debut to crime should be coming up; he does have a taste for the theatrics. Whatever he plans; it's going to be big."

"I know. That's what I was afraid of."

"Endure, Master Bruce. Gotham needs its Dark Knight."


	27. A Little Fight in You

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Batsy's invited to a party like nothing he's seen before!

* * *

"Did you get our little invitation to the Bat?" the Joker snarled, diving upon the small officer.

"Y-yessir," he stammered and quickly tried to cover his nerves, "Where's the money?"

The woman by the door laughed; it was high-pitched and echoed through the empty factory. Jim cringed at the sound, so did the Joker.

"Harley, will you find something useful to do? Men are talking."

The clown-girl's face fell as she turned to leave, pouting,

"Sure thing, Boss."

Soon as she left, the Joker was back on him, smacking that tongue in a way that made Corrigan feel intensely uncomfortable. If he wasn't so hard-pressed for money, this would never have happened, but his dealings with the mob and his affair with Rebecca had been expensive to cover. This was his only option.

"So- uh, Jimmy... what's this about money?"

The Joker's voice was a dangerous purr. Corrigan hated this man; suddenly the money meant a lot less to him. He wanted out.

"Nevermind- keep it!"

But the Clown Prince wasn't about to let him off easy. Handling a small knife absentmindedly, he urged the corrupt CSI to continue.

"Well?"

Jim attempted a small laugh that came out choked, and began,

"It's nothing, but you, umm said you'd have a hundred grand waiting after delivery."

For about ten of the longest seconds in his life, the Joker stood perfectly still. Then turned and slumped into a chair.

"Course I did- and I'm a man of my word... It's waitin' alright... at the bottom of Lake Gotham. You wanna join it?"

Officer Corrigan stumbled towards the door,

"No, sir... it's fine. I don't want it! Keep your money!"

"What's all this, Mistah J?"

Clown-girl was back, and she was blocking his exit.

"Show Jimmy here uh- to his money..."

He tossed her a small gun.

"No! No look here, I don't want no trouble! I'll just leave ya guys here and shut up 'bout it... not a word from me. Not a peep."

"You don't have to tell me. Harley here's gonna make real sure, aren'tcha, Harls?"

The girl handled the gun awkwardly; it was apparent that she had never used one before.

"What?"

Harley hoped she didn't sound stupid... was she really going to shoot that guy?

"You heard me. Shut 'im up and take him to the GPD... leave a little present for Batsy."

"But, Puddin', I-"

"I DON'T CARE, JUST DO IT!"

His last pleas were drowned out in the gunshot, and Harley dropped the gun.

"See? Was that so hard?"

The Joker stepped over Jim Corrigan's body like it wasn't there and wiped away the blood that had splattered on her face. Harley felt as though she would throw up.

Blood everywhere... and that smile... it was sickening.

She'd killed a man and he was laughing.

"I- uh, always love a girl with a gun," he growled into her neck.

Against her will and better judgement, Harley arched her back with pleasure as his teeth worked on her neck, moving down her collarbone. Her hands ran through his hair and across his back, striving to pull him closer, but he turned away.

"Now clean this mess up, and take him to Gordon... leave our card."

Straightening his suit a little, the Joker left her alone with the body. Harley's hands floated up to where his mouth had been only seconds before; she needed more of him.

She'd do anything to get more of him.


	28. Party Favors

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Showtime! I am sooooo sooooo sorry to keep you all waiting so long, but I've been kinda distracted. I've got a new boyfriend and then I just couldn't write until the faerie dust settled.

* * *

"Where's Mistah J?" Harley wondered aloud as she sat in the car waiting.

He had said that he needed some last minute "party supplies" and that she should go on without him, but she couldn't do it. Harley didn't think she had the nerves to follow through with their plan alone. And so she sat, dressed in her Arkham uniform, waiting for him to get back.

Several wasted minutes proved this to be a bad idea. Maybe she really ought to get a move on; he probably wouldn't be happy to find her sitting like a lump on a log.

Turning the key in the ignition, Harley pulled slowly away from where she'd been parked. Her brain was near numb as she wound a familiar route through Gotham's streets.

Although she was still granted access to the parking lot with her ID card, her hands poured sweat. Arkham's silhouette was a monster as she approached at a snail's pace. How did she ever think she could do this?

But despite the panic of her mind, Harley forced herself to pull to a stop. A few deep breaths later, she emerged from the car feeling a little more confident. How hard could it be?

She had everything she needed right here with her:

Her new-found friend (a heavy wooden mallet)

Her harlequin costume that had become her uniform

A couple laughing gas bombs

And:

Of course, her Arkham ID badge

All she hoped now was that they hadn't already removed her from the system. Without this badge any operation she had hoped to pull off would be beyond her means. Smoothing a smile of confidence over her trembling cheeks, Harley made her first steps back into Arkham.

******************************************************

"Surprise!"

A feminine voice whining into his ear was the last thing the guard heard before he was knocked unconscious. However, he was roused a few moments later by a different woman shaking his shoulders frantically. He groaned.

"Oh thank God! We thought you were dead! The way your head's bleeding..."

The guard found himself surrounded by a glaring white light which he eventually recognized as the interior of Arkham's cells. Most of the staff accompanied him in this small room. They all looked equally terrified.

"What happened?" he asked slowly, rubbing his sore head.

"The J-Joker's Girl... it's h-her birthday," someone stammered.

He searched the room for those who had worked in his part of the building; no one was there.

"Where's Dr. Goodman?..."

Nobody offered a response,

"Dr. Young?"

"With her."

Those two, he knew, were as good as dead. He didn't dare imagine the "party favors" they'd be turned into.

************************************

Where was he?

Now that the party was about to begin, Harley was beginning to feel sick in her stomach. What if he had run into some kind of trouble? Or, even worse, what if he'd left her? How would she explain that to the people who surrounded her?

These were her new "friends": The Riddler, The Penguin, Two-face, Scarecrow, Killer Croc, and Poison Ivy. Any one of them could rip her apart in a second, and yet here they stood, eyeing her with a sense of evaluation.

She'd busted them outta Arkham, _**and**_ she was with the Joker. This girl was something they weren't used to... not to mention that she used to be their psychologist.

The party was set up in the cafeteria area of the asylum, the doctors were on camera, and everything had gone according to Mistah J's plan. But now what to do? These people were restless; Ivy was pacing by the window, and Croc and Two-face were arguing in a corner. Whatever she was gonna do, she had to make quick.

However, despite these internal arguments, something held her silent in her place...

It was fear.

If the Joker didn't show up, there would be no one to stop them from killing her. No one... and that was a scary thought.

"Relax **_Dahling_**... enjoy the party!"

A pair of delicate green gloves gripped her shoulders from behind, causing Harley to jump slightly. The velvety laugh from behind her right ear calmed her a little... it was Ivy.

"Jeez... you're so on edge! I think J's got you overworked."

The red-haired woman kicked a chair out and shoved a protesting Harley into it.

"Nonsense! My puddin' would never overwork me! I just need to get used to it, that's all."

Another silky laugh brought her to a stop. Emerald eyes held her in thrall.

"Call me if you ever want a break. Alright kid?"

"Yeah... sure," Harley sighed.

"Good. Then what d'you say we cut the cake and ditch the clown?"

"But Mistah J said-"

"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah... what he said don't matter, Harl. It's your birthday and we're gonna eat your cake."

She motioned for everyone to gather round,

"Come on, you scumbags! Sing to the Birthday Girl!"

Harley let a little squeal of glee slip from her mouth as the Plant Princess pulled her into a hug. And Harley knew in that instant that she'd made a friend, a real, true friend.

"Haaarley! Where's my girl?"

"Oooh Mistah J!"

Harley catapulted herself away from Ivy and into the Joker's arms, smothering him in a deep kiss.

A chorus of wolf-whistles broke out amongst guys, but Ivy remained unmoved.

"Where ya been, Joker? Your girl was worried."

"Me? I was out getting her present... the **_perfect_** present," he growled.

"Last minute shopping, Joker? So nothing's changed?" she taunted, teasing lightly.

"Well, let's- uh... let's just say that this isn't exactly the- uh type of present you get in advance..."

"Oh?" her tone was mocking and his eyes glinted dangerously.

"What'd you get her then? Another plant? Like she wants one of them!"

"No... I got her something to play with... Croc, will you get my present please?"

The giant lizard man moved over to a dark corner and threw a poorly wrapped bundle over his shoulder. The Joker's eyes darted back and forth around the room and his tongue soared across his lips. He was fairly rocking on his feet.

"Can we- uh... move this... lovefest outside?"

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Harley by the arm and dragged her through the double doors. Grumbling a little, the others followed.

The sun was already setting over the city, making it hard to see.

So hard that she didn't see her present at first, but when she did...

"Oh. My. God..." she blinked, but it was still there.

"Is that for me?"

She eyed the black tank with astonishment.

"Wanna take it for a spin? We only got it for the night," the Joker called, tossing her the keys.

"Oh Puddin!"

Again, she dove upon him, smashing her lips into his face.

The Bat-mobile. He got her the Bat-mobile.

"Aw, but Harley, don'tcha want my present?"

Ivy was pouting from the doorway. Behind her stood Croc, that oddly-shaped bundle still on his shoulder.

"Ooh! More presents!"

"Of course. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't get you something special?"

Friend: that word sounded nice.

The bundle hit the concrete with a thud and a groan. It was alive...

"Go ahead... open it."

With shaking fingers, Harley tore at the wrapping paper. It revealed mousy brown hair and a doctor's uniform. She rocked on her feet.

"David."

Her voice came out choked. Ivy eyed her intently, judging her response. For a moment, there was complete silence, and then the bound and gagged figure looked up at her.

Harley gasped audibly and jumped towards the car,

"Let's go, Puddin'! See ya!"

The vehicle was already tearing away before the remaining guests gave their half-hearted wave.

*****************************************

"So... uh... what'd we do with him?" Croc asked, rubbing his scaly head.

"Leave him of course. He's a present."

With a well-placed kick to his cheekbones, Ivy left her prisoner sitting bound in the road.

"Come on boys; hit the town!"


	29. Other Presents

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Well, Harley officially got the present I've always wanted! Again so many apologies for keeping you so long!

* * *

The autumn air in Gotham blasted cool against her face as they tore through the streets. Nobody messed with the Bat-mobile, they just got out of the way.

"Yipeeeeee!!!! I'M FREEEEEEE!!!"

Harley let yelp after yelp explode into the dark streets. City lights whizzed past her windows and car horns honked angrily on all sides.

"Whoa! Hold on, toots! You almost missed that guy!"

The Joker reached across the car and spun the wheel so they collided with an oncoming car. The impact sent them reeling and forced the air from her lungs, but the sound of his laughter made her want to do it again.

And so they danced through the night, tires squealing and adrenaline pumping.

It wasn't long, however, before the cops were on their tail. Siren's wailed behind them as they swerved through the town. She managed to run a few of them off-road, but it soon became clear that no matter how hard they fought, they were eventually going to be overtaken.

"TURN!"

She spun the wheel hard to the right, following his finger, and watching the cop cars pull into a similar maneuver.

"What're we gonna do, Mistah J?"

"Go to Arkham."

No question escaped her lips, she just turned and floored it towards the asylum.

They crashed through the iron gate and raced through the parking lot, cops in tow. The stretch of concrete was full of cars despite the late hour.

The Scarecrow must still have the doctors in captivity.

Aside from the cars, glinting in the dark, there was another object, far smaller that sat in the distance... her other present.

She looked to her Puddin' for reassurance.

"Floor it, toots."

There was a moment of absolute exhilaration and then the sickening sound of bone crunching on metal.

Happy Birthday Harley Quinn!


	30. Just a Dog

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Yeah... I hear there's been something of a delay since the last chapter... *cough Completely forgot about this story cough*. Anyways, I'm really sorry, and if I've still got readers, I'll be posting with more frequency. So, message if you want the story continued. Thanks! Also, I am aware how ridiculously short this chapter is, and I apologize for that... I'm just letting you all down, now aren't I?

* * *

Harley lost control of the speeding tank as they spun circles through the parking lot. A crash was inevitable; all she could do was hope that she'd be knocked out quickly… A car whirled by her window and a few seconds later, the vehicles connected. The initial force of the wreck threw her face-first into the steering column. Harley felt her nose shatter and warm blood trickled down her face.

Sirens were still wailing in the distance. Harley knew the need to get away was urgent, but she felt so tired… Her thoughts were starting to blur into darkness… however, faintly she could hear the sound of metal scraping as the Joker struggled from his seat. Everything was okay, he was going to save her… but he was walking away…

"See ya, Toots."

A bloody kiss was left on her forehead before she slipped unconscious. He left her there. The Joker fed her to the dogs in order to get away himself… How could she have ever trusted him?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You okay there, kid? Glad to see you're coming around."

A splitting headache nearly knocked the air out of her as she struggled to sit up.

"Whoa! Not so fast, Harley!"

That pretty green glove pushed her gently back to the pillow… and that velvet voice… cognition was beginning to work on her. She must be at Ivy's place… but that meant that he really had left her. Feeling tears well up in her eyes, Harley fought the urge to cry, to scream… to tear out all the hair on that stupid head that'd fallen in love with him… How could he leave her? Just walk away and not even care what happened to her?... She was nothing to him, and he was everything to her. That thought alone made her want to shrivel up and die. Nothing else mattered, the only thing she could think about was how much she loved him, and how he didn't give a damn.


	31. A Rose In a Bed of Thorns

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Alright... attempting to return some sort of regularity to my writing, I feel another chapter is necessary. Hopefully I can work my way back into your hearts.

* * *

It'd been almost 6 days and Harley still wasn't coming out of her room. Admittedly she'd been a little banged up from the car crash, but now it was clear that she was just sulking. Ivy did feel sorry for the girl, but come on, she had to get over him sometime! So what, she'd been used. Hadn't they all at one time or another? Everybody's heart got broken; that's just the way the world spun. There was no sense in denying it. Self-pity is useless. If she wants to get back at him, Harley would have to pick herself up and get revenge. And, as a true good friend, Ivy was there to help.

"Harley?... Darling, you okay in there?"

No response, just more sniffling and a sob.

"Oh, Harley..." Pam opened the door slowly and sat down next to the quivering mass of girl. Putting her around her, they sat in silence for a little while before Harley tentatively broke it.

"D-d'you think I'll ever feel better?"

Her voice wavered feebly in the air. Ivy couldn't resist the urge to pull her close and hold her. She hated the Joker for what he'd done to her... this poor innocent little girl. She wasn't meant to be part of their world, and yet, here she was frightened, alone, and helpless. Harley would never be able to see what motivates them, what urges the kill. She'll never know the satisfaction of a job done right or the agony of failure. She'd never be a true villain... but Ivy could always try to change that...

If she taught her to love the kill... if only she could teach her to fight back to the world that stepped all over her... and now, with her in this fragile state of mind, it might just be the perfect time.

"Oh, I don't know, Sweetheart... he hurt you bad. But if you could get back at him, you might forget all about him."

Ivy spoke in a soft voice, slow and deliberate. Harley sniffled.

"I couldn't do that... Mistah J's all I got in this world..."

Her broken voice collapsed into quiet sobs once more. Fighting the urge to smack her upside the head and tell her what a dumbfuck she was for believing the Joker of all people, Ivy just hushed her and continued...

"But Kiddo, you still have me. We'll be like sisters the two of us. Nobody'll come between us, no man, no woman, and most of all, no Joker. Think about it: Gotham's Queens of Crime! Unstoppable! Inseparable! We'll have this town on its knees begging for mercy... all you have to do is get out of bed."

There was a dangerous glint in Ivy's emerald eyes making them glow with an unnatural fire. For a moment Harley was frightened, but another, larger part of her was desperate to feel better. Anything to fill the gaping hole that had formed in her heart. It'd been six days since he left her. Six days of solitude and despair... How could he do this to her? Where was he now?... she had to know... maybe an escapade or two with Ivy would suffice to prove her worth. If only she could prove that she was worth something, maybe he would take her back... Just maybe...

"Sure, Ivy... Like sisters," she echoed.

"Good girl. Let's paint the town."

************************

David awoke in agony. Pain shot up and down his body like an electric current. For several minutes he had no idea where he was or what had happened. But sooner than he may have wished, things started coming back. He remembered those green heels clicking on the tile as Pamela Isley walked over to his drugged body.

She'd poisoned him with one of her toxic kisses that he couldn't get enough of... and when he'd awoken from that... Harley had been there with that freak patient of hers, The Joker... and the Batmobile. He remembered hours of silence and waiting. Asphalt digging into his hands and legs. Waiting for someone to find and rescue him.

And finally somebody did come... but too fast... and much too recklessly.

And now the pain... it was excruciating. Every bone in his body must be broken... He tried to call a nurse, but the simple act of breathing made his lungs feel as though they were on fire.

He coughed, sending torturous volts of pain throughout his body.

"N-nurse! Nurse!" he gasped, choking on his own blood as he coughed it up.

But no nurse came. Instead the familiar sound of clicking heels answered his call. Those slow, seductive steps... green boots... Ivy.

"Hello there, David... I hope you're not mad at me. How are you feeling?"

Her voice sounded almost genuine... almost. He tried to grin, and failed.

"Like... I've been hit by a truck..."

There was a tinkling laughter followed by a delicate smile that he loved... she was dangerous, but he still wanted her.

"K-kiss... me..." he managed.

"Ah, David," she scolded him like a mother to a naughty child, "I thought you were over me. You want Harley now, don't you Love?"

His own anguished cry filled the room as more memories rushed back. Damn her! Why did she bring this up?

"Now, now... don't cry, Dearheart. I'll kiss you one... **last**... time..."

There was something in the way she said that. Something he didn't trust... a newfound panic joined his pain as he struggled to wriggle away from her...

She was poison. Poison.

With one final kiss, she sent spirals of ecstasy throughout his body, easing the pain. An oblivion was coming. He felt weak... and warm... and numb. He wouldn't survive this... not another of her kisses.

"Good-bye David... pity you couldn't handle a woman like me..."

No... no, he couldn't. His breathing slowed as his body entered the deep sleep of centuries. No more pain now, no more light... only poison... **her** poison.

If only he could tell Harley he was sorry... everything was all his fault. Harley, a rose in a bed of thorns.


	32. Diamonds Shine Bright

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Hiya Everyone! How goes it? School's out, and my boyfriend's in China! So, hopefully I'll be able to write more while he's gone; I hope to finish this up pretty soon, it's getting kinda long. Anyways, enjoy the update, this part will be loosely based on the animated series Harley/Ivy time. But just LOOSELY. Don't expect things to be identical.

* * *

"Will you turn on the lights yet?" Harley whined, holding Ivy's hand tighter.

The dark was making her anxious and she didn't want to admit that she was a little scared. Where had the plant princess taken her? Reaching out with her free hand, Harley felt cool glass counters and not much else. Where were they?

"You'll see in a second. Wait here."

Before she could protest, Ivy had slipped her delicate green-gloved fingers from her hand, and left her standing alone. After a minute or two the Clown Girl began to panic.

"Red?" she called nervously into the darkness.

"Hang on, Kid. Gimme a sec to show you what we're here for... I've just got to find the switch... Ah!- here it is."

There was a faint clicking noise and the room was suddenly illuminated with a thousand little suns, all shining their brightest. Harley was dazzled by the sight of them all. For a moment she didn't understand what they were, but the lights seemed to ease a little and she realized that these "suns" were something **much** more exciting...

"Diamonds!" she breathed, scarcely believing her eyes.

The counters she'd felt walking along in the dark were filled with the most beautiful gemstone necklaces and jewelry that Harley had ever seen.

"Are these for me?" she asked.

The red-haired woman strutted back into sight, covered with glistening stones. They draped over her shoulders, neck, waist, and arms, giving the impression that she was coated in shimmering raindrops. Harley thought that she was the most beautiful creature in the world... A creature for surely she couldn't be a woman. Women were weak, timid little beings like herself, not goddesses like Pamela Isley.

Ivy laughed a little and gestured around herself.

"All this? This is nothing. Allow me to show you what we're here for, Harls."

The blond woman took her green-gloved hand eagerly in her own and let herself be led further into the store. A small distance away, a grand display case stood apart from the others. The case itself was nothing special, but the rock inside took her breath away.

"I thought you'd like it, " Ivy smirked, "Read the label, I found it just for you."

Obediently, Harley stepped forward, stooped a little, and read the label aloud,

"The Harlequin Diamond."

She gave a small squeal of pleasure and clapped.

"Oh Red! This is the best! How do we get it? Can I have it for keeps?"

"You can have anything you want, Darlin'. We're the Queens of Gotham now. Everything in this town belongs to us."

*******************************************

Certainly this wasn't loneliness he felt, was it? A guilty conscience perhaps? Did he really feel bad about leaving her?

"No!" he muttered aloud, "I don't feel for anyone... much less that little slut."

But he tasted the lie as soon as it left his lips.

For the first time in his life, the Joker was having a hard time sleeping. And not because he wasn't tired, he was. No, the Joker couldn't sleep because he was missing Harley.

It appeared that the petite blond had carved her own little niche in his heart... well, what was left of it, and now the hole she'd left was aching.

Each day when the paper came with a new stunt from her and that Plant lady, he felt himself grow hot with anger. Harley belonged to him! It didn't matter if he threw her away; his trash still belonged to him.

But a part of him whispered that Harley was more than trash. She deserved better than him. He was a monster.

He hated himself for this weak feeling he got now. He needed to get her back... and he wasn't willing to wait. He'd burn this city to the ground until he found her... but, of course, he already knew where she'd be, and it was his least favourite place in Gotham.

Ivy would have taken her to the toxic dumping grounds.

Being immune to all toxins, surviving in that lethal environment was no problem to Pam and her companions, but to him... he wouldn't last long. He'd just have to make things quick then... he strove to recall something he could use to tempt her back...

What had they talked about all those days while he rotted in that nuthouse?

He'd heard a lot of shit about her family and her life... and all sorts of things he had absolutely no interest in... but there had to be **something **they'd talked about that he could use now.

And then it came to him: Harley had always wanted a big guard-dog that she could use to protect herself... well, he'd do a one-up to that... He'd get her Hyenas. The vicious beasts would rip apart anything that came to disrupt them, and an animal with a manic laugh like his would do perfectly in their household. It was too perfect for words, and Harley was a sucker for gifts and gimmicks. She'd be his again before nightfall.

Now for a quick run to the pet store... Gotham's zoo is about to get wild.


	33. Regret

Author's Note: Hey! Remember me? I'm that girl who writes this story and never updates. Yeah... Well I'm hoping to push out my last few chapters this week or next. So if you don't all hate me by now, please read, review, and enjoy **crosses fingers**

* * *

Harley answered on the third ring, "Hiya! Ivy and Harley! Whatcha want?"

Her voice was sweet and bubbly; he almost thought he couldn't answer, but after a moment, the Joker cleared his throat and began,

"Hey Doll… I've been missing you."

"Puddin!" she squeaked, then looked around the room.

Red had told her not to talk to the clown. Luckily she was out gardening like usual, so the squeal went unnoticed.

"Wait a minute! I'm mad at you!"

She pouted, her lip jutting out almost comically. She didn't want to be mad… didn't want to hate him.

"Look… Toots, this whole uh- shebang was a… umm… mistake."

He drew the word out menacingly, "I shouldn't have hurt ya, Harl. And I'm real…"

He trailed off, kicking at the floor with his shoe.

"Sorry?" she suggested hopefully, her blue eyes growing large.

"Yeah… just, uh- meet me here in a half hour. Gotham Zoo."

She squeaked in delight and hugged the phone to her chest. Dizzily, Harley twirled around the room as she packed her few belongings hurriedly.

"Oh Mistah J! I love you," she sighed.

"Uh-huh toots… that's great. Don't let this get to that pretty head of yours. You're mine." He growled.

A dial-tone was harsh in her love-drunk ear, but she didn't care. Harley sank to the floor amid her mess of haphazard clothes. She could practically see the hearts flying around her.

"Who was that, Harl?"

Ivy was back, her face radiant as usual with sun and sweat. Harley noticed she had dirt smeared on her nose as she shook her long red hair out of its ponytail and plopped down on the couch.

"Oh… um- pizza guy…?"

She couldn't prevent her voice from turning up at the end of her sentence, making it a question.

Ivy made a face, "Yuck. Don't you know we don't eat that trash here?"

"Oh, I know Red, but I can **not** eat another vegetable. I want something that tastes **good**. Please! I'm dying for a slice!"

"Alright… Be back soon, Hon," Ivy's sultry voice rang back, sounding almost hurt, "Hadn't you better pick up the pizza then?"

"I was just leaving. Bye Red!"

Then, kissing her friend on the cheek, she danced out the door.


	34. Bang

Author's Note: Okay... so it was a little longer than a week, but I'm really sorry. Hope this makes up for it a little... Y'all ready for something hot?

* * *

The zoo would be the perfect place for what he wanted. Now he only needed to find the right cage. She'd always been whining about how she needed to have a big scary dog to protect her... Well, he'd one-up any old dog. He'd found a straight up comic aid.

The cackling howls let him know he was close. Blood from the raw steak he held dripped down his hands and seeped into his purple gloves. He knew the hyenas were hungry from the way they eyed him from below.

'This is almost too easy,' he thought as he slid the bolts off the cage door. Security was lax at the zoo despite the fact that maniacs seemed to run Gotham. Maybe everyone was getting used to him. 'Bout time they recognized his genius. He chuckled to himself, luring the vicious beasts out with the raw meat.

"Mistaaah JAY!"

Her shriek of a greeting startled him. He jerked his hand away and one snarling hyena took its opportunity to sink its teeth deep into his arm. Rage welled up inside him as he beat the animal down off of him and into the carrier he'd brought. She was barely back for a second and she was already messing his plans up.

"Godammit! Harley!"

He turned around sharply to slap her, but before he could even raise his hand, she'd jumped onto him, covering his face with her sweet little kisses. Her mouth felt so nice on him...

"Oh Mistah J, I've missed you so much! I'm sorry, I'll be a good girl. I won't ever mess up!" She cooed into his ear, running her fingers through his dingy green locks, "Please don't ever leave me again."

"You're already fucking things up and you've been back for a total of ten seconds. You- uh... can't be trusted..."

He trailed off dangerously, relishing her looks as her breathing quickened. He grinned as her blue eyes widened. The way she nervously licked her lips when she was scared drove him wild.

Thinking she knew the game they were playing, she recovered herself and flashed him a coy smile, "Whatever can I do to make it up to my Puddin'?" she purred, eyeing his crotch suggestively. He wanted the same thing she did; she knew it.

That's why the stinging force of his backhanded slap shocked her so badly. Enraged by her forwardness he beat her about the face, throwing her tiny body to the ground. The hyenas barked viciously, excited by their tussle. Like the beasts, the Joker felt excitement well up inside him. He fought back the urge to take her that second, and instead, he turned away, kicking the ground to blow off some steam. She was helpless and confused behind him. He knew it.

It was too hard for him to resist looking back at her. He had to see the way her skirt would be hiked up around her legs. The way she would stare back at him with all the fear and trust in the world. It was an exquisite aphrodisiac. But as he turned, expecting to see her in beautiful disarray, Harley met his gaze steadily, eyes flashing with lust.

She liked it.

He let loose a low dangerous laugh like the motor of an old car. She didn't flinch as he grabbed her hair and jerked her face to his, smothering her in a kiss so wild it was more of a bite. Red lipstick smeared across her face mingling with the blood rising in beads from her lips. She moaned. Pleasure.

He didn't understand. How could she enjoy this? Roughly he thrust his gloved hand up her skirt to make sure, the blood from the meat mixing with the abundant juices that ran down her thighs. She wanted him.

"At least pretend to be scared, toots. You don't know what I can do to you," he muttered into her ear, biting the lobe of it gently.

Immediately she bought into the new game. Her crystal blue eyes widened again, assuming that role of innocence he had thought was natural.

"Get on your knees."

He shoved her down, fingers fumbling with his belt and trousers. She took the opportunity to scuttle away from him, her back only hitting the cool metal of the empty cage behind her.

"Isn't that- cute..." his tongue danced out across his lips. For a minute Harley was inraptured by the thoughts of what he could do with that tongue... "Come here you little slut."

He flipped out a knife and ran it tantalizingly between her breasts, the cool steel pressing into the swells of her tits. She panted heavily and the knife tip grazed her skin as he cut down through the fabric of her shirt and the tougher material of her bra. His knife continued to move down her stomach, over her naval and into the coarse fabric of her denim skirt. The shocking sensation of ice cold steel met her swollen clit, warm and wet in anticipation. She gasped outloud realizing she was entirely naked.

The Joker watched as her body bared itself for his eyes. Her breasts sprang forth from behind their lacy trappings. They were round and perky, the perfect size for him to squeeze and twist. Her nipples stood taunt at the swells of them, begging his fingers to toy with her. His eyes followed the path his knife had taken over the tight toned flesh of her stomach and further down to the aching spot between her thighs. His erection pressed hard against the fabric of his trousers despite the fact that they were unbuttoned. With the same amount of force he'd used to undress her, he tugged his pants from his body, baring his erect manhood.

He grabbed her hair again, tugging firmly at her scalp, forcing her mouth towards his generously sized cock. A second's worth of genuine fear shot through her brain. What if she couldn't breathe? What if he smothered her?

There was no time to think.

"Suck."

Harley tried to take a deep breath and move in slowly around his massive dick, but the second her lips touched him, he held her head firmly in place and thrust himself deep into her throat. Her small yelp was smothered, and hungrily she started sucking. Her tongue swirled around him as his arousal mounted. He grunted thrusting himself deeper and harder into that warm wet heaven.

It seemed like an eternity passed. Her cunt ached as her head bobbed dutifully between her master's thighs. Harley could hardly wait any longer. As slyly as she could, Harley slipped a hand between her own legs, feeling the silky wetness, rubbing herself with short soothing strokes. Just a little longer. Surely he'd want to take her.

A booming laugh came from above her head. He could see the petit blonde's entire body as she desperately tried to swallow his dick further. She rubbed herself, trying to achieve some satisfaction, and he, he felt as though he were seconds from an explosion. He'd give his little whore what she wanted.

Suddenly he let go of her hair and pushed her back. Startled, Harley fell onto her back, legs askew. The Joker dove on her, shoving roughly into her little cunt. He took no heed of her screams as she writhed and bucked under him. The tight juiciness of her slit was driving him steadily closer to the edge.

He shoved her down by the throat and held her in place as he fucked her tiny body. Only minutes later the walls of her cunt gripped him tight as her back arched and she screamed out in a silent orgasm, her sounds silenced by the hand on her throat. The sight of her tits bouncing up and down, her mouth gaping open in a perfect 'O,' and the warm tightness of her slit drove him past the point of no return and he exploded deep into her little pussy.

"My harlequin," he panted afterward, "...I got you a present."

"Another one?" she asked, eyes closed.

Silence met her question. His body was gone from hers, but she kept her eyes closed, holding the memory of their bodies too close to let it go yet. A wet, leathery tongue lapping at the product of their love jarred her thoughts. Her eyes shot open at once and met the eyes of a feral beast between her thighs.

"Oh Puddin!" she arched her back as the canine licked away at her flesh, "I love him! I love you!"


End file.
